


Helianthus' Swan Song

by Himechiin005



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel), Fate/stay night - All Media Types, 約束のネバーランド | Yakusoku no Neverland | The Promised Neverland (Manga)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crossover, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Family Drama, Mind Games, Strained Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 51,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21755905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himechiin005/pseuds/Himechiin005
Summary: If full-score trio were reincarnated to the Fate universe (Nasuverse), a world of Sorceries and legends, what kind of trouble they'd embroil themselves into?Thusly, tragedy and abject revelations are their guidances to a new adventure.Ps: Angst and mind-games.Rest easy! All Nasuverse terminologies and backsettings will be explained. There's no need to read Fate before jumping into the story!*Light novel formatted.
Relationships: Emiya Shirou/Arturia Pendragon | Saber/Tohsaka Rin, Emma & Norman & Ray (The Promised Neverland), Emma & Norman (The Promised Neverland), Emma & Ray (The Promised Neverland), Emma/Norman (The Promised Neverland), Emma/Norman/Ray (The Promised Neverland), Norman & Ray (The Promised Neverland)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically wise: it's 20 years after the fifth Holy Grail war. Not following any particular route, but a combination of them.

**Prologue**

"Are you done packing?" Asked Shirou to his adorable children.

"Ages ago!" Emma beamed, dropping her trunk with a plop.

"It's done, father." Norman said. The snow-white boy was holding a suitcase by her side, smiling, but unsmiling; everywhere Emma went, Norman von Einzbern came in tow as a package. It's a charming endeavor. Charming as a wintry forest in mid-spring.

Two months living together hardly thawed the icy glint in those aquamarine orbs, and the trenchant wit of the owner almost made Emiya Shirou a pitiful adult for all.

There's just zero trust between them.

"Well, let's get going then." In spite of himself, Shirou regarded his son with an _equally_ genuine albeit strained smile. Fumbling through his pocket, he fished for his car key with a hope that he hadn't flung his scores through this family interpersonal communication tidbit. 

"Shirou, the doors are locked." 

Shirou looked up. At his moment of inner turmoil, Arthuria, his beautiful wife, emerged from the porch like a godsend, lifting their remaining belongings into the baggage, she urged them all to get in unless they wished to miss the flight.

Shirou gave Arthuria a nod approval, taking the house key. On the corner of his vision, Shirou caught Norman–the very model of a gentleman–silently opened the passenger-seat door, gesturing for Emma, and the girl accepted it not unlike a princess. 

Shirou blinked.

They're so natural. As natural as a knight escorting his precious lady. 

These past two months Shirou was admittedly halfway between disbelief and delight: his pert, tomboyish, but charming little daughter could embroil herself in elegance and grace insofar as her aristocratic blood would've marked it befitting. Then again, he had to remind himself, her mother: Arthuria, while thriving in men-garments–such as medieval armor–always exuded the perfect mannerisms which put all modern Queens to shame.

"Like mother like daughter I guess." Allowing himself a discreet chuckle, Shirou started the car's engine.

  
*

  
The scenery outside the windows kept changing as motley crowds and their psychedelic lifestyles furnished the streets.

Emma was humming herself funny, antennas bobbling in delight to her tune, as a giant smile adorned her mien. 

"Are you excited?" Shirou gave her an amused glance from the rear-view mirror, finger tapping the dashboard– dancing along with her festivity.

"Yep! Hey, dad, is it true our teacher's son's name is–" A small hesitancy hung on her lips.

Shirou, not wanting anything more than to restore her great spirits, assured, " _Tohsaka Ray_. You've been dying to meet your new friend, aren't you?” By his words, there's an explosion of sunflowers. 

"Absolutely! Don't you too, Norman?" Entangling their arms, Emma singsong.

Norman squeezed back, sporting a soft expression in his acquiescence, and Shirou was unpleasantly unsurprised the boy reserved such docility solely for Emma–which whom in contrast withheld mutinous contempt. 

Emma giggled, ostensibly loving Norman's reciprocal sentiment; she placed her head into the crook of Norman's neck and resumed her previous carol. Thus, Norman's hitherto rigid countenance morphed into an angelic one. 

As ever, those two cuddled as though they're tiny puppies bathed in showers of gerbera, where Shirou fancied none could possibly slip within their space of intimacy.

 _Geez_. 

Shirou felt a tiny bit of jealousy budded over their closeness, a bit grouchy his little darling had another favorite male, far too soon for his liking, then further basked in deeper melancholic to the prospect of being separated from them, his bundles of joy, after this. 

They'd be live-in mage apprentices under Tohsaka household in Japan. Shirou knew he'd place them in good hands–Tohsaka Rin was his teacher in Sorcery as well– he'd still dearly miss them nonetheless. He'd love to move up with them but Shirou had to tie up some loose ends with his connections at work before settling in Fuyuki, his hometown, and to his dismay he predicted it'd at least take a year.

"Shirou, please pay attention to the road while you're driving." Arthuria's stern voice rattled him off his reverie. She pegged him a worried but understanding look and Shirou couldn't help an appreciative grin forming over her concern. 

"Yeah, sorry. Thanks, Saber."

The road ahead glittered under the indigo sky. Inwardly, Shirou prayed they'd have wonderful learning experiences there.

* * *

  
It's a long journey across the globe, they landed by nightfall to Fuyuki hospitable temperate. Norman's body was aching, squawking from the fatigue, whereas Emma was still teeming with excess energy, or if possible, peppier than this morning. She's babbling on about her past vacations, a definite spring in her step.

Norman inclined his body slightly toward her, hoping against odds, she could share some of them: her ardor and valor, amidst his turbulent emotion.

One week ago, since Emiya Shirou had casually dropped the name of their future-teacher’s son, joy and despair, among others, had become his constant agitations. 

He had, for once, voiced his doubt to Emma: There're millions of people named Ray, what chance was there for it to be their Ray? 

"Oh, trust me!" Emma had blown a wet raspberry at him in mock humor. "My instinct told me: This's our Ray!" Even she had no proof or whatsoever, her confidence had a striking persuasiveness to it.

Norman had been credulous enough, filing any misgivings of his aside. They'd resurfaced in whole parcel, however, as how tidal waves on a full moon.

It's not he wasn't ecstatic to see Ray again in this second life. He'd love to trifle about with his best friend, he'd think: anytime. However, the world had never been kind to them. Naivety and tenderness had pulled them no nearer to survival, or happiness if ever.

He wondered, sometimes, whether the past him managed to attain a shred of happiness at the terminus of the Neverland? He's uncertain, a part of him still having nightmares at the prospect of his vulnerabilities, his inadequacy to protect Emma. Worse yet, how he's still clinging to her, afraid of separation, afraid of his own self, afraid of her overindulgence, which was pernicious in essence for what's rightfully his to be condemned.

Emma's acceptance and clemency were a nectarious delicacy as much as it's a baneful narcotic, for she sympathized with both good and evil, never to judge, never to blame. In plucking that forbidden fruit, he'd sunk his teeth in a luscious, heavenly harvest, which, while it'd quenched his thirst, thusly led him to the path of depravity. Perhaps, her compassion was actually bottomless and he wouldn’t able to suck it dry, nonetheless, once he lost her again, it'd be an insatiable craving, most agonizing, would be all left for him. Alas, he felt there's no greater abomination than his own susceptibility.

Deep down, a birdcage was holding him prisoner; its key, however, had never left his clutch, simply rusting from the bloods he'd shed. 

Meeting Emma in his life was a miracle. Twice the reunions, that made thrice a jinx. Thus, if he were to weigh this fortune against his sins on a scales, would they balance out? Could there be much more joy in store for him? ~~_Could he?_~~  
  
The trip to Tohsaka residence was reminding him of their sepulchral errand to deliver Little Bunny. 

Their interlocking arms heavy as gallows chains, as Emma had not let go since forever, his perfunctory reaction to her innocent question–concerning Ray–in their drive to airport had probably alerted her, and glued her close to him. 

He'd built the notorious thick wall of his, plastering his perfidious smile on–and ostensibly Emiya Shirou had not the faintest brain matters to descry his little performance as the man had put the Ray subject to rest for the entire day. Truths to be told, Norman could do with ending this happy-go-lucky family charade as soon as possible–on the flip side, while appearing nothing short of buoyant, Emma would probe him a searching gaze every now and then. 

Once he faltered, her fingers would affectionately caress his, and he would twiddle their thumbs gingerly in response. The profound exchange continued on until they reached their destination. 

The Tohsaka manor stood on a hill–an acute slope by its right, and color lost in the blackness of night. High-fences snaked by ivy tendrils rimmed the estate. Devoid of perceptible lights, the architecture screamed to be haunted; albeit conceivably more accommodating than Gracefield House, the most nefarious abode. 

Shirou pressed the doorbell. After a fraction of second, a woman's voice, amplified with broadcasting spell, echoed throughout the courtyard. "Come in. It's unlocked." 

The gate opened with a creak, inviting them.

They crossed the garden's cobblestone and Emma's grip tightened on him as though to inject some assurances. She mouthed. "It'll be fine. Let's marvel him with a cheesy hug first thing!" 

_To someone that might be a stranger?_ Norman almost blurted out in spite of himself. 

Her crazy idea was remote from buying his approval, and yet tickling his impish side to rouse, the notion of teasing Ray had always been a great distraction as any. 

His imaginary Ray snapped back at him then. 

A brief pause. Soon, an ill-disguised snort escaped him. Crinkling his lips upward, Norman whispered a small: "We'll see." 

Before Emiya Shirou could open the front door, it swung outside with a fiendish force, almost grazing his nose and flattened it for good–by which Norman could be careless to be honest. 

"Tohsaka!" Protested Shirou, thunderstruck. 

A woman around her thirties materialized behind the grumbling man, adopting a welcoming stance, proud and fiery as royal cat. Her atramentous hair draped on her blazing blouse which was paired with a spruce skirt underneath. "It's been a while, Arthuria, Shirou. _Oh dear me_ –" A glint of recognition sprung up; she then swiveled to them, stooping, looking much delighted. "So, you're Emma and Norman?" 

Emma nodded enthusiastically, "Good evening, Ms. Tohsaka." 

"Good evening, Ms. Tohsaka." Norman parroted in tandem, floating a congenial simper.

"Good evening. Me Tohsaka Rin, pleasure to meet you too." 

Rin quickly ushered them inside, flickering all the corridor lamps golden with a wave of invisible hands. "It was a tiring journey, right? I've arranged the procedures and informed the Clock Tower. We can hop to the nitty-gritty stuff. Of course, after dinner." She spoke, maintaining eye contacts with them as well. 

Guided by their host, Norman and Emma walked side by side, examining their new home. The decors were Baroque but not garish, obsolete yet functional: all of them indicating fine taste of the owner, and if there're tolerable clutters that shown life, Norman supposed they're byproducts of methodical and rational personalities. 

Norman then stole a calculating glance from their to-be teacher in Magecraft. (Since Connie's traumatic engraving, It'd become a habit, out of necessity, to gauge every person's nature he met.) 

By his evaluation, Tohsaka Rin carried herself well, professional and brisk, nevertheless, Norman thought she could take a leaf out of Isabella's book. She's quite a readable fellow. 

Upon reflection, he'd prefer her this way, her being easy would work to his advantage after all.

  
*

  
Rin lead them to the dining room. 

The table was already loaded with cuisine: array of fruits and cupful wines styled the vibrant recipe, on its centerpiece laid a bouquet of peonies displayed in Victorian soup tureen. It's a preparation of utmost meticulousness for her guests who'd traveled far.

"I promised a sumptuous feast, no?" Tohsaka Rin said, not a bit lacking in haughtiness to enunciate her culinary skills. "Please enjoy to your heart's content. I assure my kitchen will hold you up, Arthuria." She added, winking to the woman.

At her punchline, everyone, sans Norman, erupted in laughter. 

"R-Rin!" Arthuria blushed, ostensibly affronted. "Good heavens! Is this how you treat a guest?" 

Norman was a bit late in the commotion but soon enough the epiphany struck. Indeed, if there’s something he had learned in their short times together: it was that Arthuria's appetite was a force to be reckon with.

By then, the impression Norman had of a pulchritudinous, emotionless doll crumbled. He had valued Arthuria's calmness as an embodiment of transcendental serenity, nothing short of charismatic, and most of all, an admirable trait of sovereignty, hence she'd won his respect, in opposed to Shirou. Still, despite the disappointing exposition, or was it?–He'd rather peg it for an amusement of sorts–Anyway, Norman knew he'd make do with an extra blackmail material. 

"Well. Where's your son, Tohsaka?" Enquired Shirou as the hilarity whittled off.

"He's upstairs. I'll go fetch him, do make yourself at home meanwhile." Rin threw an abstract look above and disappeared into the anteroom.

Not a few minutes later, Tohsaka Rin brought a familiar boy with her. His onyx fringe hid half of what equivalent to be a scowl. A moth-eaten tome securely held in his grip.

Yes. _This's our Ray_.

Emma's intuition had hit the mark.  
  
She was already beside herself with jubilation, ready to soar in a full-throttle charge, whilst Norman was still flooded with emotion, belatedly realizing four times a wonder _does_ happen. 

[ ](https://ibb.co/p0wDKC0)  
[imagehosting](https://imgbb.com/)

"Ray, greet your fellow classmates." Rin nudged him lightly. His glower deepened, but before he could make some sorts of tutting noise, a splash of marigold and silver pounced him to the floor.

"Ray!" Croaked Emma, her eyes glassy and voice fruity, repeating his name with the same crispiness of sugars trickling into a candy jar–and Norman found himself to be her brittle accompaniment.

After a short moment of lapse, Ray let out a bristle, both hands trying to prise them off him in a fluster of movements that signified his discombobulation. 

Sensing the awkwardness on his gesture, Norman and Emma cocked their heads upward. 

There's a palpable flickering of vein on Ray's temple.

"Get off," He told them with much hostility, clearly not recognizing his previous comrades, friends and families. His glare was razor acute. It cut. _Deep_.

Norman would’ve really liked it better if Ray had gone on sprouting flames: ' _The hell, are you nuts!? Who'd knock the lights out of someone you just met!'_ But it sadly never came.

  
He heard a tiny, tiny voice instead.

  
_His, in a vicious tone._

_'See? The world has never been sunshine and rainbows.'_

  
**_Ranunculus_ **

_For I'm enchanted in your beauty._


	2. Tohsaka's Household I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full-score trio cause troubles; ergo, Full-score trio=troubles. QED.

  
_Tick._

_Tock._

_Tick._

_Tack._

The rhythmic beats of a wall-clock filled the room. 

It's the giant reminder of a time-limit; the transitory it illustrated.

With nary an illumination, Ray's hands moved adroitly to finish his task.

' _Hurry._

_Hurry._

_This time, I can't fail._

_Mustn’t fail.'_

* * *

Tohsaka Rin sighed in resignation. Not twenty four hours ago, she'd been all excited and fancy meeting her long-time-no-see pupil and two potentially new apprentices, but she'd not expected things would blow out of proportion, _literally_.

 _There_ , obscuring her view were grey smokes; soot covered her face as she coughed inelegantly–by the standard of Tohsaka's household perfect-lady-decorum–then winced, she did, because they stung badly on her eyes.

 _There_ , a wasted land of what supposed to be a historical garden of Tohsaka's mansion. 

What did she do to deserve this?!!! How a simple Gandr spell has this much fire-prowess!? Were every questions wadding her mind.

Daystar loomed, at its zenith, seemingly mocking her. 

The sizzling ground marred crimson. Magma-like substances gurgled around it, devouring all greeneries in sight.

' _No, that's wrong._

_It's. Not. Her. Fault.'_

Emiya Shirou just had been careless on his explanation, thence a miscommunication had ensued in its wake–an irredeemable _one_ , at that.

Heaving a long breath of withheld frustrations, Tohsaka Rin gritted her teeth. The gears of her brain began to spin with celerity, unstoppable as they were, when she went by as the Red Devil in the olden days.

' _She'd need to knock some sense to the culprits who bought this holy mess into this world!'_

Speaking of that, she'd love to give a piece of her mind as well to her son, who seemed completely unaffected by the commotion, buried in their family's heirloom grimoire.

Cherry on top, he's lying grandiosely on the sofa while she's stuck in an impasse. 

The Tohsaka's heir appeared flippant, raising a bit of his only visible brow in modest concern, but quick to delve again in his favorite avocation like nothing happened; if he was annoyed his past time was disturbed, he did a splendid job of hiding it. 

_No_ , as his mother she knew him as a quick-witted and hypercritical boy: that reaction was clearly a fruit of two after-mentioned peculiarities mixed together to rile her further. 

"Ray, mind lending a hand? Your best-friends are spectaculars." Rin tried. 

Unimpressed by her words, the boy jutted his head out his books in languid manner. 

"Didn't I say they're marvelous species? They'd give those Clock Tower's scummy-old-vixen Mages a run for their money, _told you_." He said, a bit accusing.

Okay, alright, she had to admit one of them might even compete with the scandalous Ms. Blue's catastrophic magic projectiles, nevertheless those words were uncalled for. 

"Oh, shush, Ray! The tongue is a harbinger of calamity! I've reminded you several times: their anti-curse barriers might have activated unbeknownst and whip you good!" Scold Rin, not wanting to admit her blunder, much less boosting his ego. 

His sharp _discernment_ seemed to work wonders like ever; she's losing her ground as the elder here. 

_It's far from amusing_. 

Ray shrugged at her pettifog. "That low-level resentment would net me a sprained ankle, at worst." 

"Oh, why you!!!" Rin screeched. "Would a first-hand experience actually do the tricks in taking you down a notch!? There's a saying 'no pain, no gain'...!" 

"Um, Ms. Tohsaka?" A mop of marigold tugged her sleeve from behind. It'd unbridled every strained nerves on the Tohsaka proprietor. "I'm so sorry!" 

"Oh, no harm done, sweetie. It's not something Sorcery can't fix. Your father still league and above with the mishap he's cost me. So don't worry, alright?" Rin smiled reassuringly. 

_Yes_ , no harm done. The two children were unscathed as she'd cast a protective barrier to their bodies before the little test. 

Although, Rin had noted, with hardly a cheer: there's a puncture in the house's Bounded Field and replacement jewels as its cores were needed. 

Hence, the only victim here was probably Tohsaka's financial expenditure, which had been hovering in the red for who long knows. 

"Are you sure?" The girl of eight springs bit her lips, accessing the damage done, against herself.

"Yes. Emma." Her smile never fell, after all Tohsaka Rin _would_ bill this to Shirou, her father. 

Even he's not loaded, he'd been working with his wife as a freelancer mercenary specialized in eradicating Dead Apostles, or humanity nemesis. Going around the world for the past ten years, he must have a saving or two she could rely on. _She hoped so._

"It's okay, Ms. Tohsaka." Sensing her distress, a boy with platinum hair smiled serenely to her side. "The Einzbern will cover all expenses for mending the lawn. This's included in the contract."

"Really!? Thanks Norman!" Emma chirped, her antennae bobbing–as though it'd motors skills on its own. 

Rin couldn't help but to smile at the uncanny similarities the effulgence girl had with her parents. What with those emerald orbs she inherited from her mother and the shade of golden to tangerine locks that combined those two characteristics; the girl was undoubtedly the price daughter of her best friends.

Well, as much as endearing the notion was, it's also the source of her headache since yesterday. 

Last night, Shirou and Saber had dropped their daughter and a homunculus they'd rescued from Jubstacheit's castle–whom they claimed as an adopted son, to boot. 

Rin _wasn't_ surprised. 

She took everything in stride. Indeed, their sense of justices were nothing new nor was the trouble they brewed, she's honestly at ease things never changed. 

Their heads-up phone call about their arrival had been an excitement to look out for; it'd stayed true despite all, especially, in meeting their offspring. 

There's a clear reason for it:

Tohsaka Ray, her nine years old son, was a reserved and misanthropic kid. 

He'd always kept people–classmates, acquaintances and even family–at a distance. Maintaining the perfect balance of involvement and equality through the bubbles of society, infallible even the subject of propriety was himself. 

He was the so-called ideal profile of a Magus in modern ages. 

Nonetheless, Rin wasn't convinced. She'd noticed how his raven eyes dulled every time he saw other children frolicked about beyond their house's fence. 

The solitary path of being a Magecraft practitioner was unforgiving, and it's entirely on her to push that weight on her protégé. 

Whenever she tried to broach the matter or muster a semblance of effort to fix it though, Ray's eloquent moreover clever nature had been a great obstacle. 

In truth, she was halfway on an inescapable guilt trip, so Shirou's impromptu request to tutor his children was a godsend through and through. 

This's possibly the only chance for her son to form a true companionship with his peers of the same world. She had, in all eagerness, signed an official contract.

Rin soon started to question her rash decision, however.

 _Firstly_ , Shirou had substantially concealed some information regarding Emma's true ability–not that she couldn’t guess his underlying reason, regardless of its credulity, over its gravity. It's still insulting, all things considered. 

_Secondly_ , there's something amiss on her son's behavior since their chaotic encounter–at first glance, to everyone's stupefaction, Emma and Norman had rushed and enveloped him in a bear hug, so tight they'd almost suffocated him. 

Rin had to commend them for their boldness: they'd smothered him with affections–both parent-and-child had shied away from–as Ray's protest went from one ear to another. 

And icing on the cake? the step-siblings had even labeled Ray as their 'dear-bestie', earning a bout of giggles from Rin much to her son's chagrin. 

Toward midnight, Ray had wriggled out of their relentless assaults and retired to his room, leaving snarky remarks and two dejected puppies in his wake.

The war of attrition for a good snuggle continued until this morning, Rin observed absently as she's about taking her ablutions. 

She'd half-expected Ray reaching his limits of patience, sort-of worried about his retaliation, were not his past outbursts mere inoffensive cases. Albeit, by noon, betraying all expectation, her much anticipated dread never came. 

_Yes_. Ray had dismissed them, still his gesture contained no rejection whatsoever. This fact bewildered her to no extent.

"What gives..."

Rin looked around, drilling holes onto the enigmatic little pair's backs–for the miracle they'd woven and storms yet wrought.

There're scattered clues, but she lacked the puzzle's final piece to connect the strings. 

She ought to address the topic with Shirou and Saber, in the short run– _tonight, by hook or by crook._

*

  
"It's late." Ray announced with finality and went upstairs, eschewing all politesse. 

Rin wanted to chide him for the curt remark, yet refrained herself by virtue of today accumulated tiredness. 

After Shirou and Saber had came back from their errand, Rin and Shirou spent half the day restoring the hodge-podge garden. 

It's not feasible to continue the lecture withal the clutters, so Rin had called it postpone until tomorrow, consequently, granting the kids some playtimes. 

Just a moment ago, they'd finished their last round of chess matches–closing the fierce bout with Norman's victory. As promised–a Ray's compromise toward the two insistent cajoleries–they ended their game before midnight and had to tuck in. 

Sprinkling good-night kisses on her parents, Emma, followed by Norman, made their way as well to bed, leaving the living room dreary off the children's presences. 

  
*

  
The wooden grandfather clock chimed twelve times into the witching hour. 

As silence descended, Rin placed the newly brewed teas atop the table before opening her mouth in a slight displeasure.

"Shirou, you've many to explain."

It's not a question per se, it's a command without rooms for negotiation. 

Rin regarded him with a frozen stare. 

The bristles in the air from her fluctuating Od could be felt all across the living room. 

"Alright." 

Shirou, undaunted, gave her a simper.

* * *

"Wait, Ray!" 

A bell-like voice echoed throughout the dimly lit hallway.

The onyx haired boy stopped on his track, turning his heels to face the newcomers. 

He stood unceremoniously, right in the middle of the corridor, unmoving, muted, blending into the nightly veil of the still landscape.

Then, a minute passed; without a cue, Ray resumed his walking toward the pitch darkness.

Nonetheless, Emma paid no heed over his silent treatment. She recognized the flicker of light gleaming in his eyes. 

There's no way she could have mistaken it for anything else: memories of traveling together in the wilderness amidst viable dangers–those semi-immortal predators–lurked deep within her consciousness, conveying his thoughts–clear and loud. Insomuch that it eclipsed telepathy.

Hence Emma, and Norman–faithful on her side, as the whole exchange wasn’t lost on him either–trailed after Ray.

  
*

  
They entered the furthest-end room–Ray's–amongst many other unoccupied ones. 

It's embellished with intricate furniture and mystical antiques. In its corner, organized heaps of glass tubes, apparatuses, books, papers, and some curios had filled the spaces. 

These quaint contrasts: between appurtenances and thriftiness of basic adornments on the other side, mirrored the owner's disposition to a tee, more so, with its low-luminance condition and a faint aroma of caffeine floating about. 

With a fluent step, their reticent host swiftly closed the door, turning the key clockwise to stave off undesirable visitors. 

He then eased down a gem on the carpeted floor and proceeded to cast a Germanic spell–voice barely above a susurrus.

_muffle muffle unsere stimme_  
_also kann keiner hören_

Mana pranced about as Ray imbued a life into the diamond placed under his fingers. When he finished the incantation, It shone prismatic hues, painting the surrounding vicinity a kaleidoscope of colors, akin to a galaxy.

"What's this?" Before the stunning phenomenon, Emma beamed, drowned in curious awe. 

"It tampers with sound waves–a sound-barrier, so to speak." Ray clarified. "– _And no_ , it won't create an anechoic chamber, that'll rack us more suspicions than not." He supplied, sensing Norman's unspoken inquiry.

"...Why?" Norman changed his approach then. The question could lead up to thousands of presumption, but he knew _this_ Ray could spare him the frivolity. 

The senior mage pointed to the canopy bed. "Sit. I'll explain."

As Norman and Emma made themselves comfortable on the silk cushion, Ray started, not without gravity. "Spare me from the preamble, or the nostalgia chitchat, blah-blah. And cut to the chase–" 

"Called it!" Emma chimed in with abandoned glee. "You remembered us!" The girl broke into a hearty laugh, innocent and delightful withal seriousness hanging in the atmosphere.

Seeing her pure joy, Norman smiled, a genuine one. "Why concealed it, Ray?" Its serene yet imperious quality put a pressure unlike others–whom it solicited an answer, all the more.

Still, Ray faced it upfront with his own level gaze. Rather accustomed to Norman's petty coercion. His hand expertly laid an array of trinkets above the sheet. "Here's a runic canceller. Nullify your master-apprentice contract and get out of here tomorrow morning, it's–"

"Impossible! _Ouch_ –" 

Emma got her well-deserved chop-on-forehead for her second interjection. 

"It's not. You don't have a cooling period, but any unaffiliated magus has the rights to leave this **_world_**." Ray emphasized. "Listen. Forgo the Mystery. You'd better live as normal humans."

"... Is it about the backlash?" Norman reckoned. 

"Right." Ray nodded. "To be a 'Mage' means to go side by side with death. I don't care how thick your family's tie now, whatsoever 'love' you're receiving is crooked, fictitious. **_An illusion_** –otherwise no sane parents willing to plunge their child into this shitty hellhole."

"If you understand, Norman." Ray threw a sharp glare at the snowy boy, bristling. "Scram and pick Emma with you." 

Emma and Norman were taken aback, stumped. Realization dawned on them like cold waters. The hidden implications behind Ray's conducts were made crystal clear, once for all. It's hardly a riddle as much as it's the naked truth; except, the mastermind behind this farce ostensibly not aware of his own quagmire, or what a tragedy would it be otherwise.

Biting her lower lip to banish this poignant thought away, Emma's gaze fell on the agitated boy's figure. "Ray...are you perhaps doubting them– _adults_?" As if treading over a sore spot, she continued in tender volume. "..Have you been projecting Mama on your mother, Ray? Is that why you're pretending, keeping your reincarnation a secret?" 

"No! That woman is not a bad person, I _know_ ; well, doesn’t change the fact she's a dyed in the wool mage, though...her priority is set in stone." Ray's strained mien bespoke his quandary. The absence of hatred could be discerned out of it, but not the bitterness of past traumatic estrangement yet consigned to oblivion. 

There's a pregnant pause accompanying them, brittle as ice, acute, nonetheless.

Norman wasn't callous enough to pursue the elephant in this situation. Blowing a short air, some wrinkles formed between his eyebrows. "Well, setting aside our agreements on the matter, Ray. You've been excluding yourself again from the equation. Surely, you don't think we'd run away without you?" His tenor dropped an octave at the end. 

"No. You've to give up, regardless." Ray showed his left arm, on its surface bluish stigmas were engraved.

"That..."

"Magic Crest, been implanted since I was three." Ray traced the lines, as if proving his stance.

Norman gasped at the view. A shade of gloom surfaced on his nethermost azures. 

Seeing that, as if alarmed, Emma reached for Norman's arm in hopes to quell any precarious ambers sparked by his prejudice. 

"Calm down, Norman. Magic Crest is an accumulation of Magic Circuits passed down from their ancestors to each generations' head. It stored numerous thaumaturgical knowledge and research, a most treasured heirloom of Magi lineages. It's not by any means a ' _brand_ '." 

By her eloquence, syrupy as lemon marmalade, Norman's blizzard was abated; it unfurled the petals of spring through warmth, assurance, and as of how vernal equinox had marked his birth, in her, he'd found peace. 

Regaining his bearing, Norman took, if not a moment, to cerebrate. As a matter of fact, Norman himself, wasn't completely nescient about things, even without the proper upbringing, no foundation, no education to speak of; still, Norman von Einzbern was nothing short of genius, and it's not beyond him to construe her remark with a modicum of knowledge. 

Magi– ** _they_** –emulated the Mystery(Miracle) by adhering to the primordial orders of the universe, reifying the act as Thaumaturgy or Sorcery–for it, Magic Circuit was imperative.  
  
Magic Circuit defined them as Magi: without, they’re just normal humans. 

It's a pseudo-nervous system or pipelines which converted Life-Forces from the magus's soul into Magical Energy. 

_Passing off the Circuits as Crest....._ Norman digested Emma's explanation and came with his own interpretation, "In a nutshell, an armory is it?"

Emma nodded. "If we're putting it in a metaphor of a computer application, that is to say how Sorcery works: Mage's body is the hardware, Magical Energy is electricity, Magic Circuits are cables that connected the astral plane to the material world, while Spell is the interface or autosuggestions for Mage's inner self: similar to how an 'x' button educes the notion of exiting windows.

"As Norman himself has surmised, Magic Crest is the software. It's a 'cheat' item. Allowing its owner to cast the Sorcery recorded without learning it first-hand, whereas newer ancestries must come with their own formulas. Hence, the older the pedigree, the more invaluable it becomes."

"Hoh, color me impressed, Emma. I dubbed you to be the less informed out of you two." Raising an eyebrow in mock humor, Ray clapped offhandedly. “But, guess, being Einzbern homunculus wasn't all shine when it comes to standard process, huh." 

Einzbern clan was one of a kind. 

They'd dated from a thousand years ago, but espoused not the rite of passing their Magic Crest. Inasmuch as they created nonpareil homunculi–Magic Circuits in a human form–to achieve the Third Magic, the custom was considered counter-productive. 

Consequently, Norman von Einzbern hadn't gotten any reality check over the course of his homunculus life.

"Well, where did you pick these up?" Curious, Ray asked her. 

"Ah," Emma stiffened at his casual inquiry. "I chalked up some bags of experience when I travelled with my parents, I suppose." She could never ever say she'd seen the lurid wonders of Magic Crest up-close, especially not in front of these two.

For instances, she'd witnessed a Mage's upper-half body–whose life barely sustained by his Magic Crest–pranced about while shooting magical beams. 

Or how she'd battled Dead Apostles, who'd devoured countless Magic Crests to strengthen themselves and morphed into another level of threat capable of eradicating an entire continent, parrying their deadly blows and such. 

The lists of absurdity went on, but blotting out the gruesome pieces, she glibly censored everything in fear of inciting their radical overprotectiveness.

Ray cocked his brow, fortunately for Emma though, he's quick to dismiss her queer falsetto on account of Norman's pending explanation. " _Huh_ , anyway, having ' _this_ ' means I've accepted the role to be the successor of Tohsaka's sorcery wisdom, and by extension, all responsibilities toward achieving its dearest wish. So, you guys should flee-"

"Where to exactly? An isolated isle? A secret shelter? Nothing but a rubbish talk, Ray." Norman shot him off with a sarcastic tone.

Emma nodded. "Yup. Fat chance, Ray." 

The pair wouldn't move a budge. 

In such circumstances, Jack's beanstalk would be a more surmountable threshold, in Ray's humble opinion.

"' _Kay_ , plan b, then." Hence, Ray conceded all too readily for his troublemakers to respond back. A smug grin emerged on his face seeing their flustered visages as he rummaged the tin box on his side. 

Inside were jumbles of electric wires, mechanical gears, and mishmash instruments of unknown origins. Pulling out a map, he spread it over the duvet sheet.

"Lookie here, my Magic Crest would leave too palpable traces when used. Even in its dormant state, some specialist Magi might still able to detect it. Running away isn't an option, yet cutting away 'a usable arsenal' would be a fool's mate–"

"...An absolute camouflage!" 

" _Bingo_ , Norman." 

' _If you can't expose or cut something off, then shield it perfectly_ ': it's an elementary logic. 

It worked double for things like a pseudo-tracker–Magical Energy magi exuded involuntary and liable for detection–if turning it off an impossibility, disrupt the signal. 

"...How?"

"Fuyuki city hosts considerably enormous leylines: there're four major pipes, where clusters of Magical Energy concentrated into one spot, this," Ray pointed his finger over a location. "Ryuudou Temple. Once, it's a spiritual ground that accommodates the manifestation of Greater Grail. If you manipulate the leftover residues plus the graphs which construed it, we can extract tremendous power from its core and have a simplified wish-granting machine without reinstating the ritual."

In the past, a sacramental ceremony was held in Fuyuki City every few decades or so. It involved seven Magi, and seven Servants, Heroic Spirits summoned forth as their familiars, in a battle royale to vie for the ownership of the Holy Grail–an omnipotent device.   
  
Emma's breath hitched. "Holy Grail War... shouldn't _it_ already been dismantled?"

"Yep, not a remnant left intact, in fact. My mother did a clean job of it." Ray unfolded another paper–a blueprint of a complex magic circle. "This diagram illustrates the management system of the amassed Magical Energy, what we're after for is the land not the Heaven Cup." 

"So you're delegating the task of the 'vessel' to me?" Norman pursed his lips.

"Aren't you Einzbern's homunculus?" Ray suggested casually. 

Fuyuki Holy Grail War–this rite was designed by three founding families: Tohsaka, Makiri and Einzbern. 

Each of them carried important posts for its implementation: Tohsaka provided the land, Makiri constructed a curse that bind Servants to their Master, and Einzbern forged the 'cup'.

Therefore, Ray had just now, in all brazenness, advocated using Norman's body–a pseudo-grail–as a catalyst for his plan. Yet ironically enough, his imprudent comment earned him not a single malice. 

What wouldn’t be permissible by norm, were such mundane affairs for former _livestocks_. 

They'd no qualm exploiting something they could make use of, it'd stayed true despite all–even something remotely inhumane by execution. 

In response, Norman delivered an affirmative wave. "True. Our Sorcery Trait: Einzbern's Wish-Granting, allowed us to bypass almost any thaumaturgical process altogether, notwithstanding, it's still constrained by the limitations of my Magic Circuits. Even we have an unlimited source of mana, the scale of miracle is finite and temporary. All things considered, it won't be our solution. What's your true motive, Ray?"

"Anomaly. An anomaly that engulfs the entire town. It'll be our smokescreen. On that point, I need your cooperation, Emma."

As she's suddenly being dragged into Ray's mad idea, Emma widened her eyes, having chills running down her spine. She's certainly an ally to lunacy, but **_not_** imbecility. "W-wait, are you definitely capable of overwriting the system? Fuyuki City's Holy Grail is corrupted, in the off chance it went haywire, the tragedy it'd evoke will be unthinkable! Besides, Ms. Tohsaka should have built a strong Bounded Field there to ward off intruder!"

"Don't worry. I'm not biting more than I can chew here. The old magic circle was utterly severed, torn asunder, by my mother and a certain Lord a decade ago. The Greater Grail is no longer there, only residual Mystery of the omnipotent chalice stick around." 

"The chance these documents are falsified?"

"None. The original files are sealed in the archive. These are photos. I've been there, seen the circle first-hand and tinkered with a prototype." Ray rambled on as he coined some devices out his drawer–to be precise, they're stored in its hidden alcove, with electronic keys to boot. His best friends were positive he devised those securities by his own, and had a nagging inkling, without authorization whatsoever from the estate's owner. 

“In that department, Sorcery and Scientific mechanisms aren't so different," Ray blathered on. "Dissembling a structure enable you to forge another from scratch. Long story short, I've laid the groundworks so we're halfway there." 

Emma took few pieces and examined them with a marvel. "Wiretaps? Micro cameras? You're as dexterous as ever, Ray." Those gadgets were the exact replicas of Ray's past creations at the shelter. "What're you using these many for?"

"I've planted them all over the house and scattered few digits in the town to track people’s activities."

Norman perked up at Ray's nonchalant quip. "You might as well be sued for privacy infringement and we'll be hopeless to help." He hummed, entertaining the sophistical idea. "Sadly, neither you're stupid nor indiscreet a person, the appropriate measures must have been effected prior. _Oh_ , Just for reference, is Ms. Tohsaka in the dark?" 

"Yep, totally. For outside uses, I've inscribed talismans to avoid detections. For inside, well, nothing at all."

"Eh? _Nothing_? " Norman echoed. "But that tablet you’re always carrying around, one of its functions is to display the camera footages, right? It ought to rouse some suspicions if not scrutiny." 

Aside from it, there's no television or monitor in this conventional vintage house, therefore it's a given one wouldn’t miss such incongruity–wouldn’t miss such an advance-technology's byproduct laying around. 

"Nope, she's a luddite, as every other magus is. A living anachronism who can't even operate a smartphone, or technically, any electronic items having more than ten buttons." Ray shrugged. "You've got nothing to worry about. I can testify this house has strong fortifications against invaders but lackadaisical security for insiders; a simple password is more than enough to stave her off."

Long story short, in a blooming civilization, Magi were extant fossils.

"How convenient." Placing a hand over his mouth, Norman's lips curled upward in ridicule. "Well, with that many pointers, you've oh-so-generously sprinkled, I can kind of glean a bit to your agenda, Ray."

Ray was thinking along of creating a large-scale disturbance much like how burning their House had helped distracting Isabella on their escape. For nothing so far, in principle, had eclipsed the brilliance of such strategy by which of their evident success, Norman had to concur it's solid in all of its pith. 

"Me too." Purring, Emma burrowed her elbows on the fluffy pillow underneath; her cheeks rested on her palms as her legs flailed about. And in between her effort to resist her yawn, as well drowsiness which lured her into dreamland, she smiled cryptically.

"Well, are you on board?" A manic grin cropped up on Ray's face. 

* * *

**_Bang_**.

The luxurious mahogany table quavered–on top of it, the brown liquids inside the chinaware rippled, reflecting their aggressor's contorted image.

"You think I don't know that!?" Rin's voice boomed in fury. "Of course, I've figured it out! No matter how you slice it her Gandr was irregular!" 

Gandr–what's Rin referring to as her subject of digression was a Scandinavia's versatile curse in form of projectiles. 

It infected the target with malediction. Thus, it should've been incorporeal and have no tangible forces, but Emma's was on the level of Finn shot–a forbidden, lethal ammunition fired with **ample** Magical Energy–a superior Gandr, in simpler term. 

"I know Emma inherited the dragon blood from Arthuria, and in extension, a Magic Core. Which, I'm sure, played no small part of this. Still..." Rin continued and trailed off.

Magic Core–indeed, unlike normal Magic Circuits magus had, its quality, speed, durability and capacity were off the charts, the highest caliber out there. Analogous to a comparison between a machine and a factory production rate, it resembled nothing so much as a nuclear power plant and every maelstroms of energies manufactured within. 

Thus, in hindsight, Magic Core might be the key foundation of Emma's irregular output, except, the 'missile' she had launched this morning was charged with **paltry** amount of Od, insufficient to produce a Finn shot. 

Rin, of course, didn’t miss any of these oddities.

In short, despite owning a herculean battery, Emma had neglected it away. Then how one could get by over the absolute law of the universe, videlicet, equal-exchange and produced such tremendous effect?

_Disproportion had to have a bottom line! It'd gone over! Way over!_

"...For me who have practiced Gandr throughout my life, the discrepancy is appalling. You can argue Emma has better control of Magical Energy all you want, I can attest her Mystery operates in different principles altogether." Hand on her hip, Rin scowled at Shirou. "What're you hiding?"

"Wow. As expected of Tohsaka, we can't pull a fast one on you." The man laughed, all too happily.

"Grr! You're underestimating me, aren't you!?" Shrieking, Rin grabbed his collar.

"Now, now. Don't go basilisk on me, Rin." Despite being strangled unfairly, Shirou offered his best cordial smile. "You're getting impatient. It's not we don't trust you; my daughter herself will divulge everything in due course when trusts have been built. Instead, wouldn’t pushing us to tell will be detrimental to your standing as her teacher? Emma is a good girl. Isn't that enough for now?" 

"T-that's..." Confronted by this sound argument, Rin faltered.

"Shirou is right, Rin." A beautiful maiden–hair a molten gold, a face sculptured in heaven, and skin fair as white lily–addressed Rin with neutral timbre from across her seat. She had stayed impartial the whole debate, opting to be a pacific party, but Rin's atypical hesitation turned that determination into dust. "For an educator, discovering their disciples' talents should be a treasure beyond measure. This's so unbecoming of you, Rin."

Listening to Arthuria's mild admonishment, Rin ever so slightly backed down. The remonstration had hurled a knife into her, a shame so great she hung her head down. "Saber....-no, Arthuria, forgive my childishness."

Toward the nostalgic name, Arthuria's turquoise orbs softened their authoritative edges. "You may call me that, Rin. I don't mind."

"No, I'll refrain from it, better careful than sorry, especially, in front of the children." Uncharacteristically, derisively, Rin flashed out her demure side. 

A huge fiasco had occurred after some secular factions knew about Arthuria’s existence. 

A Heroic Spirit, and the legendary King of Knights no less, she’s an exotic quintessence for many thaumaturge. 

Since then, to conceal her identity as a Servant, Rin had buried the name 'Saber'.

"...You never tell your son?" 

"I don't want a repeat of that bloody battle, neither the vicious frays before we shut the Grail, nor confessing my involvement in all those carnages." Rin admitted begrudgingly. "I even destroyed half of the fifth Holy Grail war records in the library."

"Pfft-" Shirou guffawed at her clumsiness that’s unfitting for the supposedly inhumane Mage. Still, the motherly deeds were a breath of fresh air. Her usual frigid professionalism was fallible, a subterfuge of otherwise an awkward love. 

"You're overprotecting him, Tohsaka." He added with a goofy smile all over. 

Rin flushed furiously at this, her mouth gapped open and close in an effort to deliver some sort of ripostes before decidedly snapping at him. " _Tch_. It's the pot calling the kettle back!" 

She shoved a transparent bottle with amaranthine solvent inside to Shirou. "Here! I brewed the potion for Norman. His constitution isn't as weak as Illya and his Magic Circuits aren't designed to deteriorate rapidly either. His body will hold on as any healthy mage will do with proper maintenances." 

"Thanks. You’re a life saver Tohsaka."

"Forget it. Medical field isn't my forte anyway, this's just part of my duty to take care of my own protégé." She huffed. "Seriously, next time you adopt a homunculus like picking a stray cat, you should consider twice, no?" 

Dry laugh was all Shirou could muster for her jab. 

Not that she's going out of her way dumping her overdue complaints to him, merely setting the score for the humiliation she'd received bolstered her egos. Magi were accumulations of pride after all.

Practicing Gandr this morning was supposed to be a preliminary test determining her students' potentials. 

The straightforward spell was a sensible option, levied a fair evaluation withal criteria as they’d skipped the rudimentary introduction to Sorcery and been on practical approaches for a lifetime because of their upbringings. 

This consideration, though, bespoke her incompetence, in retrospect. 

An embarrassing miscalculation. 

She had to readjust her entire education program schedule. And Tohsaka Rin had a lot on her plate as it's. 

"By the way, Shirou, how's your investigation faring?" Clearing her throat, the last aspect of congeniality had disappeared, replaced by her business personification. "I need your report, at the earliest hour."

"On the job. We've expanded our scope. The hunt is nearing its end." 

Last month, a singularity cropped up and victimized Fuyuki citizens. It's quite a bizarre case. The victims were ' _erased_ ' and ' _restored_ '. 

While the transgressor's aim and modus operandi remained ambiguous, Emiya Shirou was commissioned to capture them. "They're as good as a trapped rat. And their verdict is yours, Fuyuki City overseer."

"Great." Rin's lips curled upward, almost diabolically. "They've got guts to encroach on my territory! And right under my nose no less! It's natural a triple reimbursement to be on their tab, no?" She’s now giving an impression of a vain general riding her high horse as she settled her offender's sentence. 

For Arthuria, Rin's loftiness seemed to foreshadow another blunder or some sorts. Hence, an aura of solemnity engulfed the perennial girl.

"Be ever vigilant, Rin. It might be a ruse to claim Fuyuki hegemony." Cautioned Arthuria, her ethereal beauty and sublime elegance often misled the ignorant, for her noble words weighed in her majesty, divinity of kingship. "Our stay last for mere seven days, we'll be dispatched to another town, then. Don't ever let your guard off. Protect the children."

"Roger. Leave it to me!" Rin brushed her hair away with a smug grin. For her part, Arthuria's warning–faith–by her biased translation–was a hearty encouragement. 

Needless to say, she's off the mark–by a mile. 

At this point, Arthuria had an unsettling hunch that her advice just went down the drain at a single stroke–then again, she remembered how Rin's chronic foible always acted up at the most critical time, so unless such situation arose, as much as luck would have it in now bloodless Fuyuki, her anxiety was unfounded. Perhaps?

  
Zinnia

In the melancholic days of yore, _we_.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my German and the butchery I may have done to it. 
> 
> The early part is a bit dialogue heavy as of how both franchises this's based on. If possible, I want to flash out their dynamics first through these interactions. Note that every utterances the characters spoke and actions they took have important underlying. Little by little, each of the mysteries will be unveiled.
> 
> While Nasuverse is complicated, I can assure all of its terminologies will automatically settled themselves as the story progresses.


	3. Interlude 0.1

  
_Interlude 0.1_

  
**_Magic Lesson_ **

  
The faint oscines' chirpings produced a sweet melody outside the windows. The glimmer of star dispersed through the windows' clear glasses, gaining spectrums of beautiful hues and lavished the interior of a study room in its luster.

Specks of dust danced along the warmth streams, coruscating like minuscule diamonds. They settled themselves upon the escritoire the three children were occupying.

"Right!" Clapping once with fervor, Tohsaka Rin did to garner her students’ attention. "Today, we're going to review our basic knowledge of Magus society. As it'll be most imperative for any Mage to fraternized oneself with these 'awareness' to survive in our world, I beg for your utmost attention. Especially, after we had our share of stumbles yesterday," 

Ray snickered tawdrily in the background, but Rin expertly ignored him with an unflinching smile. "We'll back on our track now, however." 

The Tohsaka head regarded the petite girl sitting across her. "Emma dearie, I've heard from Shirou that you're not so ignorant, may you get us a simple introduction?"

"Sure!" Emma beamed. "First of all, every Magus must operate under the code of 'secrecy'. A dictate of highest order, we uphold, not to protect the common masses, nor our ilk, but in the cue of preserving the Mystery." 

"Terrific! Divulging our profession to normal humans is worth a capital crime. Now, why's that?" 

Rin didn’t, of course, miss her son's immense eagerness to read his book, of his reluctance in listening a boring brush-up, or the fact he had no decency to cover this up, thus, she chanted an old verse, unbeknownst to him: " _Flioget anti spilôn!"_

At her prodding, Ray's books took flight in galvanized rustles. They flapped their wings, resembling nothing so much as butterflies, and migrated toward Rin's desk while Ray was helpless to stop them in his bafflement. 

They queued themselves in vertical lines above the mahogany desk, then dropped one by one in reminiscent of Lego blocks,

Plop. Thump. Plop.

The last one, a squat volume bound in velvet, with trims of golden embossing, bid its young owner a coltish farewell before parachuting off.

Thump!

Then, with a resounding click, each of them shut itself for–Ray guessed–the duration of today's lesson, enshrined between their neighbors–of thaumaturgical paraphernalia.

Ray groaned.

Emma and Norman coughed up those unflattering, unmasked titters. 

And satisfied, Rin winked at Emma to continue.

"For Mystery is definite," Emma answered somehow through her snigger. "Thoughtless leaking would diminish its value, Ms. Tohsaka."

"Correct. We do not fear the persecution or the harm which may befall our adverse brethren. Simply, because Mystery is the source of all supernatural portents." Rin adopted her lecturing pose from there on. "Sorcery is, by essence, an arcane, recondite art. Once it's exposed, it becomes less of a secret rite and is reduced to a useless general knowledge. In the same way unexplored places or cryptic objects, just by being in the realm of the unknown, can hold much influence over people’s fears. Why, cracking these wonders carelessly would just kill the thrills, right?"

"Similarly to how magic tricks losing its charm once solved, is that it?" Norman supplied.

"Um, yeah." A wry smile formed on Rin's face. "Albeit, we're talking about the long terms, see. In million years or so. Just a billion ordinary people suddenly knowing the existence of Magecraft won't weaken Sorcery in the least. Our society merely wants to curb any recalcitrant weeds before they bud some troubles." 

"Then, who effects the pruning of those outlaws?" Norman asked.

"Oh my, how charmingly inquisitive," Although, having a child asking it as a matter of factly was, in the mildest of terms, creepy; Rin continued despite herself. "That would be Mage's Association, in this case, it's more likely than not the Clock Tower." 

"Clock Tower?" Norman momentarily put a hand over his chin, registering the freshly acquired information. Rin had named a candidate: inadvertently hinting for another giant authorities, yet, had been so confident of the executor in charge. For this, his sapphire eyes shone with acumen. "I see. In short, those enforcers are dispatched by the ministry of reclusive organization, that by far has regulated our whole society. Moreover, by your words Ms. Tohsaka, it's armed with a might of legislative jurisdiction to impose bill of attainder. I'd imagine, these are blatant displays of political machination?"

Rin spilled a quiet gasp of astonishment, and after a moment of silence, made a sheepish smile as if applauding him. "Yeah. Not agreeable, not monolithic in the slightest bit, still, one just cannot escape from the greater forces of things. That’s our society's World's Police. Well, I think you guys won't rather have any dealings with them until much later.

"Ah. We've gone off tangent now. Emma, go on with the next prerequisite." Wondering how much the snowy boy had perceived from this queasy discussion, or if anything, managed to catch her subtle warning, Rin dismissed the topic at hand. 

"As you wish Ms. Tohsaka," Complying to her teacher’s demand, Emma began to explain. "Second in importance is 'what' has shaped our community to date: in other words, Magus' raison d'etre. Magus always refined themselves to reach Origin: our ultimate goal." She stirred her pen in circular motion as though to express her point.

"Exactly. Vortex of Radix, Swirl of the Root, Ymir's Path, Akashic Records, we got a lot of names for it. But basically, it's a place where everything exists, the origin of all phenomena. Past, present and future. Every truths prevail in that space; thusly, speaks a lot of its preeminence. No matter the cost, Magus exert all their assets and abilities to achieve it.

"Nevertheless, the road there is steep and inexorable. Hence, Magi who failed in their pursuit, passed down their researches to next generations in shape of Magic Crest." Rin walked to Ray, and lifted the sleeve of his left arm, showing the proof of Tohsaka bloodline's longtime journey: the not so appealing tattoo. 

_An encumbrance._

"Does it cause any pain?" Asked Norman, tentatively, as he grasped the onus Ray had to bear over the stigma. 

"Eh?" The question seemed to fluster Rin, but after a second of lag, she hummed. "It hurts as much as activing your Magic Circuit. At most, it's comparable to inserting hot iron rod into your spine?" She said, devoid of parental concern.

None of the trio in particular reacted to this apathetic statement. 

Notwithstanding, through this exchange, Emma and Norman finally comprehended the gulf between the parent and child. Of which, they're sure, was the impetus of Ray dissent, his apostasy.  
  
"Funny," Rin scoffed at their reaction–or lack thereof, sighing in half-disapproval against their–she somewhat felt as–mutinous silent. "I guess, Shirou's ideology is more contagious than I give credit for," 

She brushed her hair back, then her tone took a giant nosedive forthright. "Listen, now that you’re my protégé, I refuse any half-hearted approaches that might harm yourself in return. Shirou has left you two in my care, therefore, I'll endeavor myself to mold you into first-class Magi–Heaven forbids, you become a Spell-caster and follow his footsteps!"

"Spell-caster?" Norman's eyebrow shot upward at the foreign term.

"There're plethora of study fields in Sorcery: Thaumaturgy, Necromancy, Alchemy, Astrology, Kabbalah, etc." Rin listed them as she paced the length of the Study room. "We refer those who dedicate themselves to the study and refinement of those Arts with appropriate titles, however, Spell-casters are different," She stomped to a stop, swiveling to her audience. "They're heretics. They hold no interest in the Root, and worse, only think Magecraft as a useful tool."

Norman opened his mouth, but Rin was quick to interject, somehow gleaning his thought.

"Don't be mistaken. I'm not talking about the ignominy of being a Spell-caster. It may look this's just a silly bigotry at work, while they're merely, in positive light of things: adopting a pragmatic mentality. But, involving yourself in Sorcery with dubious mastery is equal to playing with fire. Anyone can pick a knife, but only a selected few can wield it properly as a weapon, and even then, risks remain." There's an intensity, severity, in Tohsaka Rin's mien she'd abstained herself before. 

Her words now held much weight. Weight her pupils were compelled to listen with heedfulness. "Never forget, Magi always walk side by side with death."

By the end of her speech, a strain ambience had predominated the room. 

There's truth, and only indisputable truth, accompanying her admonition.

At bottom, Sorcery had hoarded too many hazards for them to venture some more. Case in point, something as simple of casting a spell burdened the caster with a taste of pain. 

This was because Magic Circuit was an indispensable equation to perform Sorcery. Nonetheless, Magic Circuit was by nature something foreign to the human body. Its activity would inflict pain and numbness, and in the long term, risked overexerting the Mage's body. 

Contrary to the image it invoked, Sorcery wasn't an art of grace and marvel, but of sacrifice and blood.

"Mhm, we understand Ms. Tohsaka!" Rejoined Emma, almost instantly. She's glowing, a halo fringing her locks by the gentle kisses of the cascading morning sun. 

Rin was, of course, disgruntled by the swift response, but Emma had thawed the tense atmosphere with sincerity Tohsaka Rin couldn't find any faults to rebuke for. 

"Really?" Rin eyed Norman for a double confirmation, admittedly, feeling like she just wasted her breaths for the sake of pointless dramatics.

Norman nodded. 

Rin deflated at that. "Uh okay, you two have practiced Sorcery before, so I believe you're no stranger to the dangers it entails." 

Subject closed. 

Rin huffed. "Anyway, we've strayed again, huh? Let's just move on to the exciting practical, get a hold on you up till lunch." Said her with a certain sense of defeat. 

From the very start, Rin had been aware, none of them were keen enough to move their quilts, or pens. Yet, strange indeed, it didn’t affront her. At least, not so much. 

She knew these students had the sagacity to pass over such futility. Hence, Rin let them off the hook, or to be precise, she'd rather think she'd had to not let this rub her henceforth. 

This's probably an unspoken, wily goading of them to step up her curriculum–and she relented, with something not too ambitious for neophyte Mages, and definitely had not anything to do with destroying her manor’s properties. "For starter, why don't you summon your familiar?" Rin proposed after some considerations.

"Uh. I'm terribly sorry Ms. Tohsaka. I can't do it here." The smallest out of them said, calling attention to herself in a disheartened voice.

"Oh, dear. Why? Is it a spectral type? I'll weaken the barrier for a moment, if necessary." Rin offered, since the Bounded Field around Tohsaka mansion negated any lower class spirits and emasculated wraiths in general. 

Sweeping her gaze over her surrounding, Emma scratched her cheek with diffidence unusual for her. "No. That’s very kind of you, Ms. Tohsaka, but this room just would be a tight fit for it."

 _That_ piqued Rin's curiosity to the hilt. The room was after all spacious enough to accommodate seven African elephants. "What's your familiar, sweetie?" 

"It's a giraffe!" Emma exclaimed with an air of confidence that betrayed everyone's expectations. While this explained the limits of this room's ceiling height, it brought another mystery to its revelation.

"...Giraffe?" Surely, Rin had to have misheard her.

"Uh-huh, Giraffe!"

"Giraffe?"

Emma nodded furiously, as though she's a child bragging about her amazing–which, in fact, less than remarkable–toy. 

This otherwise seemingly harmless admission delivered such great a blow for the more experienced practitioners in the premise, notwithstanding. 

Two individuals, parent and child, lost in a moment of stupefaction, were devoid of the capacity to speak. For a lingering minute, they opened and closed their mouths, imitating a warbling parrot, then after such excruciating interval, they roared in tandem. "That's so impractical!"

"You do know what familiar purport to, yes?!" Outmaneuvering Ray, Rin shrieked in her disbelief.

"They're our assistant?" Slightly overwhelmed, Emma leaned back to the comfort of her chair.

"Exactly! You must realize the bigger its size is, the greater Magical Energy it consumes?" Rin informed vehemently.

For Magi–who tend to be isolated from the outside influences, drown in their deep researches–magical attendants were unavoidable necessities. They're tasked with miscellaneous labors–their contractors didn’t bother to do away with–in exchange of equal payment: Od. 

From the plethora of their varieties, at least for the living-type familiar, small animals or insects were known as good espionage agents; they're prosaic, but cost-efficient and nondescript from their own untamed kin–a much desirable trait, for they had the natural camouflage to stave off any unwelcome attention from ordinary humans. Whereas, had the need for battle-prowess arisen, fiercer and sturdier types, like a lion or a snake, or any ferocious creatures having defense mechanisms by they own selves, while burdensome were preferable choices as a shield. 

"Thing is, not only giraffe is sizable than average, it's too feeble and docile to be your protector. I hope Shirou isn't stupid enough to leave these out for you when he taught you how to bind familiars."

"Yes, he didn't. But I insisted."

"Why?" There's a matter of compatibility indeed, however, Rin couldn't see a giraffe offered as much solution as any. So, maybe, there’s a greater depth over her choice.

Before Emma could dispense her reason, the boys had clutched their own temples just as naturally. 

Being with Emma for so long required a special kind of fortitude to get by, even in nonsensical footings of life. The girl's propensity for fickleness had always been a Cornucopia of inspirations at best, and repeatedly a source of acute headache at worst. But this time–

"Because giraffe is the cutest thing ever!" Was the sincere reply of the girl.

Yes, this time they’re not so inclined to say this levity done in innocuous fashion was predictable yet exhilarating in effect. 

So... They laughed, of all things. Ratcheting in volume, by minute, in abandon blithe.

Obviously, Tohsaka Rin wasn’t partaking in their conviviality, for Emma's answer didn’t quite tickle her funny bone as it had for the boys, far from it, in fact. Cute? A life-or-death decision was sifted out by a 'cute' factor? That easily? Really? Okay, she might have exaggerated things tad a bit, but there’s no denying familiar-choice–at least a Mage's main-familiar–was an important crossroad, as fatal as deciding, say, one's luxury car after a lifetime of saving. And that metaphor was as cogent as it could be for Tohsaka Rin with her economical lifestyle.

Frankly speaking, the fact she's acquainted with the prime suspect responsible of this lackluster mindset infuriated her to no end.

Not only that, for her first lesson–she refused to admit the previous one as anything but an orientation–to end in jeopardy, like a worthless sidekick joke? Rin was beyond livid. Boiling. Scathing.

"Dismissed." Rin said, voice soft, yet ringing out with its stark chilliness. All at once she'd stolen the piñata off the children's grasp.

Emma tilted her neck. "...Pardon?"

Rin smiled. A cold smile. "I said dismissed, Emma. Early lunch." Clap. Clap. She herded her apprentices outside to the hallway. "Go on. I've personal vengeance–ahem, an urgent, yes, constructive message I need to convey to Shirou. I'm going to contact him for a while. So, be good until then, alright?"

The door to study room closed shut without a good argument to follow. Left to themselves, the children stared blankly at the wooden door.

"Did I perhaps sign my dad for an earful?" Emma commented to no one in particular.

Ray sighed, then pulled a smirk. "No shit, Sherlock."

* * *

  
A scent, the distinct aroma of decomposing paper and leather, of dry ink: here, where sunshine practiced the greatest stretch of tolerance, was a turf, a haven for Tohsaka's successor. 

Walls decorated with shelves, beam and buttresses, of rows and rows of books. Some collections left collecting dusts had been revived in his generation, half of them reclined aslant on his room's cupboard, being a steady night-watcher of his nocturnal activities.

That’s why Norman von Einzbern didn't even need to search to find his best friend there. Spending his allocated time barricaded within the fortresses of tomes, of trillions of texts it provided and knowledge it bequeathed. Being the lone figure in the quiescent space.

"Where's Emma?" Ray started, tone ghosting, as he addressed the white intruder without even sparing him a glance.

"Helping Ms. Tohsaka preparing our dinner." Norman hummed, his finger grazing the parched cover of a book that caught his attention, its indelible parts shied away within the gloom like a woman adumbrating her insecurities under the thick foliage of makeup. Revolting. Repulsive. Ugly. "Alone?" Ray groused, breaking his trains of useless thought, which translated to: why, you, the babysitter skipping out from your job?

"Not if I can help it." Norman mumbled, a bit testy, and fell into silence. It's out of his hand when Emma herself refused his catering and sent him to accompany Ray. But Ray was a hardcore bibliophile, and a tough nut to crack while at it. It's far from an outgoing assignment in contrast to how she'd casually brought it up.

Ray, somewhat sensing the prickling, accusing stare of the platinum boy, prodded back. "What?"  
  
"Just a point of interest," Norman's sapphire orbs seemed to glint in the dark as he approached Ray, his next words floating about until he stopped near the crouching boy on the floor, perfectly aware he's hanging someone in suspense.

Having enough of Norman's theatrical overture, Ray spat. "Well? Spit it out."

"Why not get rid of the 'hindrance'? It's quicker that way." Norman quipped, looking down at the Tohsaka's heir with palpable condemnation, not for his wishy-washy method, but of genuine qualm sparked by his unknown agenda; Norman felt it's within his own right to press for a motive. 

"That's beneath consideration, and you should’ve known better." Ray scoffed. "Aren't you the one who deduced Clock Tower is a den of clashing intrigues?"

"And precisely why I don't see they stoop so low to meddle in your family feud." A patricide wasn't anything near scandalous for Magi society. Norman couldn’t fathom Ray's fear for their involvement, or in this case, implausible policing.

"Oh yes. They certainly won't." Ray waved affirmatively. "Tohsaka family has an asset or two there, something like a license to its royalty, where annually we get our fix resumes from their pocket. Thing is, I'm underage, even I inherited the title _'in the near future_ ', they'll just assign a guardian for me to monitor their financial flow. Well. Bah. No thanks. So much for a freedom, nah?" Norman's reply to this was a dry, "Ah. Good point."

Norman supposed whether it's normal or magic society, the modals for advancements were as materialistic as it could be, in other words: money played a big part; this's understandable as much it's unchangeable variable by logic, and why they're going for such length preserving their resources. And why Ray thought it's wiser to keep them uninvolved. After a pause, Norman blurted. "Even so, I thought you resent her?"

"Now, that's funny." Ray snorted, setting aside his book. "Such irrational mentality never fit me. I don't do with revenge." When he saw Norman's skeptical look persisted, he sighed. "Really, Norman? You're not the type to further yourself in vendetta either; when you concocted the genocide plan, vengeance never quite fled with it, had it now?"

Giving no definite answer, Norman closed his eyes, then, as he opened them again, his gaze was the splitting image of lake's tranquility at winter, so clear, so deep, yet so cold. 

If hatred had been nowhere close to his mind at that juncture of radicalism, that'd be a lie, notwithstanding his animosity toward demons was arguably less real than the sheer bitterness he held toward the overall concept they’d portrayed: a threat to his family–honestly, if he's talking about threats, Norman could give few discount hither and yon to any runners, and Peter Ratri would still win the race by landslide.

"Don't be so jaded." Ray called, pulling Norman's attention back to him. "Didn't you come to convince me otherwise?"  
  
"Huh?" Norman, faltering at his vocabulary, was at a loss for a second before the epiphany struck. It seemed Ray thought he's some sort of Emma's envoy in tasked of persuading him off his plan. "You misunderstand big time, Ray. I've no such intention. I'm only making sure you choose the optimum solution. I can't say for Emma though." 

Ray's brow crinkled. "You're not pulling my legs, aren't you?"

"What would I gain by deceiving you?" Norman chuckled. "Unless if, in reality, whatever you're scheming constituted a taboo, and may drag Emma into its ramification... Do you?" All his humor disappeared on that end note. 

And Norman caught a brief faltering on Ray's part before he schooled it again into his usual stoicism. It took no genius to realize Ray was indeed threading on a tightrope with what he's brewing behind, and he himself had qualms about it. "I thought you’re smarter than this, Ray." Norman's voice turning up to a sibilant hiss as he glared at the raven boy.

"Hold up! Don't jump into the gun. I myself know I'm in the position where I can’t take even the smallest risk. By the inevitability of circumstances, the chance to be discovered isn't shy above nil, but that's hardly on my conscience. Why, I've gone the extra miles to prepare the perfect decoy. What weights on my mind is a different matter altogether!" 

"Then, elaborate." Norman pressed as Ray floundered to explain himself.

"You should’ve some inklings as well, Norman. In our past life, for the sake of evening the ledger between the two worlds, Emma created a new promise with ■ ■ ■. And as I fucked-up royally by failing to leverage her burden, she took it all upon herself." Ray clenched his fists, as though refraining himself from lashing out at anything entering his sights. "Dang it! That reckless girl is kind to a fault! A sucker for her own compassion! If that makes any sense... Everything about her is so random, there’s no telling what would beguile her solicitude next. I bet she'll cause a fuss once she discovers it's not 'decoy' as much it's a 'scapegoat'; think she'll pull through it when there's sacrifice at play?"

"No. Preposterous. Logic doesn’t define Emma." There’s a certain sense of defeat jabbing his pride as Norman added vexingly, "But the most troublesome aspect is that logic always underlies her rash actions. It's ridiculously paradoxical. Sometimes I can't wrack my brain enough to tackle her thought processes." Norman could sympathize with Ray. Emma was a kind of person who slipped out one's hand the more you wanted to protect her. 

"Tell me about it." Ray shrugged. He got up and put a book back to its shelf. He strode off to the door, patted Norman's shoulder, then waved his hand nonchalantly. "I'll appreciate it big time if you could rein her in then, guardian."

As Ray left the library, Norman realized it's dusk already. He's standing in the darkness. The sky was a mix of obsidian and violet, only a speck of remaining amber lingered beyond the horizon.

"He sure pushed the most difficult job on me."

Norman complained in his solitude and slowly went to the balcony, watching twilight beckoned the stars. The flower garden below was soon basked in their faint glows. It had a magical touch that's sadly lost on him now.

*

"Norman," As his name was called, he swiveled to see Emma standing near the Rose hedges. 

"I've been searching for you!"

She beamed and Norman, with the courtesy of a gentleman, invited her to sit with him at the patio adjacent to the tiered fountain–its waters were cascading brightly underneath the moonlit sky and giving a pleasant sound of rainfall which soothed one’s mind. 

"So, you've come for a postprandial interrogation?" Norman piped up as she took a spot beside him. 

"Hm, not exactly." She hummed in humor. "...Did you two get a good talk?" 

When there's a short pause on his part, Emma gave him a once over. "Norman?"

"You won't ask what 'postprandial' is?" Norman smiled. Inwardly, he did admit it's not the most cordial question coming from him. 

"Is there a need?" Emma tilted her neck as she swung her legs about imitating clock's pendulum for a good minute, then formed a sheepish simper. "You're such a meanie. I won't ask unless Ray is around. Are you perhaps checking my stance?"

"Yeah. But, you’re as inscrutable as ever. That’s a relief." Finding her usual sophistry reassuring, Norman shut his eyes and allowed himself to lean on her shoulder. He listened to her lulling heartbeat, which carried greater a charm than a mermaid's song, the chorus of the crickets, the therapeutic rustles of the leaves, the sweet tune of the breezes. Each a delight to his ears. 

He welcomed every natural melody surrounding him in blissful trance, letting their idiosyncratic notes wash over him. 

His senses were tickled.

Through their intertwined fingers, he could feel her pulses, her warmth. A melancholic tension squeezed his heart at this seemingly normal phenomenon. As if this's a figment of his hallucination.

"Emma," After two unimpressive syllables, Norman broke off for a lungful of oxygen intake. Floral scents invaded his alveolus with traces of fresh greeneries and bergamot; he could somehow make out Emma's citrusy and milky fragrance mixed among them. It's calming him down, unbridling the ever growing taut in his thought, by which, he, at last, mustered a courage to ventilate his impending question. "What's your view on the Seven Walls?" 

Her hand he's clasping twitched slightly, and Emma's verdant orbs lingered on him for a while before flashing him an understanding twinkle. "That place is a tomb, a womb. Where every dead souls return into and are reincarnated within." 

As he showed ostensible interest on this topic, Emma pushed on with her narratives as a storyteller would entertain their spectator. "Ever heard of Metempsychosis or Palingenesis? They're philosophy and theology terms of spiritual re-creation. You see, in Greek mythology, there’s a tale of Er, son of Armenius, who miraculously revived on the twelfth day after his death, he then recounted to others his wondrous journey in the Netherworld. He averred the bizarre realm he visited was divided into two parts: refulgent sky and dark terra firma; he then witnessed some pure souls descending from heaven and haggard souls surfacing from underground, in which a judgment has been bestowed between those virtuous and evildoers, and thus each of them shed their old vessels to occupy new flasks. Orpheus morphed into a swan. Thamyras into a nightingale. Atalanta into an athlete. Humans to animals. Plants to spores. Oh. Oh. Why, indeed. Many, many of them transformed diversely like psychedelic puffs of a certain fictitious smoking bug!" 

Emma ecstatically informed him as though recalling a colorful illustrated page of her storybook. "Right. Right. By the last passage of Er's anecdote: through several cleansing rituals, those souls were urged to drink Lethe's water and shot away as stars to their birth. The end."

Norman angled his head when Emma announced the story's closure prematurely. The way she's jumping from one subject to others reminded him of a five years toddler.

"Oh. Sorry. I'm done referring to the portions where their similarities coincide." Sticking her tongue, Emma chuckled.

"Similarities?"

Emma nodded, gesturing her hands along. "In particular, the characteristics inside the innermost part of the Seventh Wall: its nucleus. There, terrestrial horizon demarcates daylight, the radiant firmament, above and night, bejeweled by millions constellations in the cosmos, below. Ring a bell, no? The astral plane was a boundless reflective pool. With every step made, ripples spread on the oceanic mirror. It's such a beautiful sight...

"Although, well, all of that was probably just an optical stimuli for the dreaming observers." Added Emma with a melancholic gaze to a distant, intangible past, and fell into silence.

"Stimuli? As in illusions?" Norman, however, kept the conversation going to chase away that expression of her. Because. Because something constricted unbearably when he saw it. Something sacrosanct.

"Um, pretty much. But it's much, much more real. So rather than a mere hallucination, it's nearer to phantasmagoria and nasty synesthesia effects where the chains never cut short off. One can't trust their sensory receptors at all, cognitive dissonance is a less of their worry when paranoia, nightmares, mental traumas assault them in full brunt. One’s sense of reality will be utterly rendered meaningless. After all, anything can be mold ignoring the law of homeomorphism inside that realm. It's without doubt the database of all knowledge across the universes. Past, present, future. Everything exists, everything is feasible beyond its oblivion, an inertia space spared from physical time's influence. Ubiquitous yet nonexistent."

"Isn't that oxymoronic?" Norman interjected in his befuddlement.

"Well, I'm not pulling your leg here. Ray did wreck his brain to figure out those puzzling miracles by advocating quantum physics or theory of relativity, and what-not, but he, in fact, was shut down hard in the last second. The trick itself is self-abandonment. Honestly, it never get as simple as it goes... Uh. I'm rambling nonsense now, aren't I?" Emma laughed awkwardly, seemingly at impasse to put things in cogent sentences. 

Norman, however, didn't bat an eye and instead floated an ambiguous smile in response.

"What?" She tilted her neck. Her lustrous tress dangled beatifically to her side.

"For starter, Ray would flip over if he behold your lexicon now. Where the glossary he needs oh so much when you two hold a conversation?" Jabbed him.

Emma was stunned for a split second before she broke into a peal of laughter herself. A joyful one this time. Her frilly voices filled the steely garden, though it faded just as fast.

She then stretched her spine, and looked up with a liberated spirit. "Know what? I can say it now that it's over. Meeting Musica was truly a kismetic stroke of serendipity for us. Not only she's saved our lives, she, kind as she was, even gave me her precious amulet. Thanks to her, we could peer into the Seven Walls first instead of diving blindly down the rabbit's hole."

Norman pulled the strings of his recollections, and muttered. "...That lapis lazuli pendant? Why did it come out here?"

"Uh-huh. Well, for starter, doesn't it kind of remind you of Eye of Horus or Eye of Ra? They’re both ancient Egypt's protective symbols. Eye of Horus, the lunar eye, provides healing properties, equates wisdom and illusion to its contours, and have a strong allusion to the underworld. Whereas Eye of Ra, the solar eye, is an extension of the goddesses, it represents the placenta from which the god Ra emerged with, moreover expresses creation and renewal of him through the cycles of rebirth. Since the amulet was in a racing certainty similar to their concept, that's a big pointer it's imbued with the properties to tear the fabric of Seven Wall's dimension–if for a bit, before the divine forces sew it anew."

"Hmm. Is this digging to your search for Culvitidala?" 

Emma slipped an impressed wow. “You’re sharp." 

Norman chuckled at her praise. "And? What did you find there?" 

"A fetus. An embryo, void of impurities, who reigns over the eternal realm, accompanied by a primordial dragon. Both of them possessed the Eye of Providence. One is a demons' God. One possibly a Phantasmal Beast on the level of Sumerian Kur. I can't detect any living entities beside them... no, it'd be suffice to say only those two are in a state of latency within."

Upon hearing her detailed portrayals this time, Norman let out a belligerent gasp. "Wait. Emma, these descriptions..."

"Oh? You finally caught up." A mischievous glint entered her eyes. "Whatever you’re hazarding isn't wrong."

Emma's lovely lips curled upward. It's bewitching, but it gave him not the warmth of a sunshine. "Seven Walls would be an equivalent of this world’s Root." 

* * *

  
Another Monday had come and Shirou and Arthuria had left for their next work as planned–of course, after getting rid of the troublesome 'pest' in town.

The days more or less passed on peacefully. The children in Tohsaka Rin custody acted prim and proper. They got along–partly in the process of–with Ray: a novelty in of itself. They even learned their materials faster than sponge would absorb water. Here, she'd been, at a moment of sophistry that no one could compete with Ray's ingenuity, and thus, proven wrong.

Tohsaka Rin found pleasure in taking these stellar kids under her tutelage–was proud as a peacock for that. 

Not quite little angels. 

Avant-garde brains. 

Extraordinarily gifted in Magecraft: one a perfected magus since birth, an Average One (capable of manipulating five basic elements); one a unique entity possessing two Imaginary Elements.

The lineups should give her a peace of mind. Yet, there's a pricking sensation inextinguishable beneath all. Although, she brushed it off relatively with ease.

She had no qualm why.

Just a hunch. 

Perhaps, because there's always seemingly a silent conversation ongoing between them, a game of seamless tic-tac-toe: like how they effortlessly passed the blueberry jam or utensils or margarine or ketchup or soy sauce to each other every meal without exchanging any word. Or how they did the chores in varying degrees of harmonic, mind-boggling tempos, not missing a beat and helped themselves with a scant confab for her to lost the translation in the midst of. 

_Must be telepathic spells._ She'd suspected; still and all, as she'd checked countless times before: there’s not a vestige of Sorcery used, so she decided it's all probably on her. (Or perhaps an Esper? She started to seriously consider the branch of another supernatural field, then shook her head for getting ahead of herself.)

Rin looked down to the Nuremberg eggs laying on her desk for the nth time. The sky dyed fiery red outside her office window, with magenta and pomegranate ringed over the horizon. Its amber penetrated the marbled tiles, setting them ablaze in maddening hue. 

It's weekend. The trio–a bundle of energy, an embodiment of intellect and a reluctant boy–had gone out to play at the neighborhood park since noon. 

That peculiar ' _case_ ' had been resolved; without any perceptible sign of danger, Tohsaka Rin had readily sent them off. 

Yes. Just in a few moments, those little feet would barge in through the entrance, skidding across the parlor all gambol. And today would end tranquilly as well.

Rin told herself. Again and again. Like a charm. 

  
_For here's an augury_.

_A prelude to a grand adventure._

_Of an unprecedented upheaval_.

* * *

  
In a derelict park of Miyama shopping district, everything was painted a Sunkist coral. 

Three children busied themselves with a plethora of outdoor activities. Splash of periwinkle sit on their shuffling shadows; when out of the blue, they gained an extra shade. 

One of them looked up in confusion.

A humongous penumbra had stood before them for their perusal. Its shape hazy, volatile. The air frizzled and distorted like a mirage, cradling its prey in sinister emotions. 

Space shifted. Time stopped.

In the interval beyond quantum physics and illusions, twilight fell.

The phantom's crescent mouth slit open. 

As ' _it_ ' fancied, three persons were removed from reality in an instant. 

Nobody there then.

All but an illusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of info dumps(but they're important so bear with it;D) Action starts next chapter.


	4. Tohsaka's Household II

The night was a vast sea of blackest ink.   
  
Goddess Artemis's beloved insignia, the unattainable pearl, reigned over it. With millions of twinkling advocates, they basked everything in faint glimmers.  
  
This's a juncture when the boundary of death and life thinned out, blurring as Wraiths loitered around in merriment. 

Dread gripped pitiful lost lambs whom ventured into the darkness. They're doomed to be snared by malevolent critters, of the supernatural and mortals, for their indiscretion. Indeed, the prices of negligence had been unrelenting from ancient history.

Yet, as the date changed and nary a semblance of activities burnished the landscape of a giant cardinal bridge, three mischievous, audacious children traversed the desolated road. A figure of their guardian escorting them was nowhere to be found.

They had made a beeline from Miyama to Shinto after rounding up their elaborate tricks in Ryuudou temple's underground cavern. Their destination was the abandoned, decrepit Edelfelt's twin mansion situated across the river. 

[ ](https://ibb.co/3Fdp0h2)

Ray, in his ebony attire, drowned in his deep rumination, watched the conspicuous sunken boat being rocked by the river's placid waves. The lump of metals, resembling a dinosaur fossil, was a forgotten relic that had endured the ebb and flow of time. Immobile. Forsaken.

Just like him when he's reincarnated in this world. Alone. 

No tears were shed at his own agonizing awareness. Nor did any lachrymose tantrum ushered his infanthood. Only emptiness was his abject companion. 

In the same manner, not for once he'd been grateful to be reborn. Curses and resentments had swamped his exhausted heart until the folly of suicide became such an appetizing idea. 

Granted. He didn't entertain the foolish idea. It'd be a damnation of the century if he were to be subjected to the same fate–separated from his family–in his second reincarnation after all. Hence, he'd exercised prudence or whatsoever he thought as logical: withdrawing to his solitude atrophy as a recluse bibliophile. Locking his feelings inside, putting a lid on them, and be their sentinel: twenty four seven, no respite.

Maybe, if he'd a smidgen of Emma's positive bone, he'd have moved on, freed himself from the shackles of the past. Notwithstanding, an incorrigible pessimist he was, he'd been hapless, enslaved–at the mercy of his own miserable remembrances. 

Being a Mage's heir didn't help either. 

Scratch that, it's actually the worst deal of things. The glamor of Magecraft was a dull reminder of his otherwise two beacons of hope, a miracle too late to have, an ill-equipped power to wield. 

While he's under his mother's guidance, a hollow marionette of doldrums who float through life without meaning, he would, on occasion, question his worth. For what reason he's alive? Freedom? ...But having no one to cherish? 

He'd seen, aplenty, the parallel between that Ray and him, along the abysmal asymmetry in there: his best friends' absences. The coincidence stung. The irony burned. Magic Crest transplantation hurt. Activating Magic Circuits brought him closer to his death door. Not once or twice he'd almost turned into a cripple. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

Admits the excruciating pain, his goal had grown clearer and clearer.

 _Escape_. He had to run.

He formulated a flawless plan accordingly.

He did a reconnaissance of Greater Grail past sacred ground.

He manipulated certain intruders–magus after Tohsaka administered land and made them do his biddings. (Thanks to his Mystic Eyes, Ray's hypnotism had worked spectacularly despite against fellow kin, whom Magic Circuits should give them some sort of resistance.) He, also in utmost meticulousness, left no trace of his feats in their memories.

Then, Ray ordered his 'puppets' to form a contract with a familiar: Wechselbalg. 

Its duty was to kidnap tragic children and spirited them away to Faerie. After receiving its blessings, the children would be returned as bundles of happiness. In exchange for this miracle though, their connections to their tormenting past would be 'cut'. For example, an abused child would receive benedictions and lose their recollections of their wrongdoer as a compensation. 

This was the truth of the anomaly that had befallen Fuyuki City. 

A distraction for Fuyuki City's Overseer, Tohsaka Rin.

Ray glanced sideways. "I'm surprised you're on board, Emma."

Noticing his implicit question, Emma chuckled. "Because our aims align, I guess?" As she blew hot air onto her hands, puffs of milky vapor sprung up. 

It's early March. Fuyuki climate was relatively mild but night breezes were crisp near the port. Emma was dressed in a frilly clothes, with a chic wool coat draped over it, courtesy of Tohsaka Rin and Norman von Einzbern. The two zealous fashionistas had been treating the petite girl as their exclusive dressing doll this past week. His mother, in particular, seemed to lament Emma's lack of womanly awareness and dumped her entire wardrobe contents on her; they're of outmoded styles, yet elegant in all its flair. 

Although, Emma was being Emma, fashionable or not, she refused to wear gloves because they got in her way for fun. 

"Emma, here, use mine." Norman offered with a sincere smile. His exposed palms were of aching blue.

Grimacing, she clung onto his arms to fend off the cold, not for her sake–for his sake. "No. I'll be fine, Norman. I've higher body temperatures so you hold them, 'kay." Her concern lingered in her sweet inflection. 

The flaxen boy hesitated. Still, one touch of their bare skins was enough of a proof for him to retract his mitt.

"Oi." Left hanging on the side, Ray channeled his most unimpressed gaze at her, then.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. I'm not lying though...? Wechselbalg, a pseudo changeling, that fairy or whatever it's, can only kidnap children with its targets' consents, right? Wechselbalg comes to children who strongly wish for salvations, then it grants their wishes at equivalent cost. It's not the most correct solution per se, but it's fair and square. I can't deny those pleas by forcing my idea of justice on them." 

"Yeah, right." Ray deadpanned.

"Ugh, stop being so cynical, Ray." Emma pouted before breaking into a smile. "Anyway, ' _Gairum augus coisricim thú', was it_? I'm amazed the spell did chase it away so easily."

"It's Ireland old mantra to ward off Changelings. I did some research about them..."

At first, Ray had planned to take advantage of the uproar Wechselbalg brought and fled to Elphame, land of seelie court, forever. His mother would then, none the wiser, gathered his son: a child, as another victim. By the time she captured his scapegoats, he'd be long gone. 

However, midway through its execution, he's reunited with Emma and Norman in an unheralded manner. His mother never filled him in about their arrival, of which he supposed he had his antisocial self to blame plus her ploy to fix it. 

They had smiled at him. Smiled in wistful, affectionate way, unlike some strangers, and caught him in a warm embrace.

( _Oh. They remembered him.)_

He'd registered absentmindedly.

His hitherto monochrome world regained its colors, his thirst was quenched, his cells were reinvigorated, and he, at last, recovered his purpose. 

As a jolt of elation had stricken, abrupt and fleeting, therefore the severity of their situations sank in. He couldn’t let them experience the same torture as he had, bane of mankind: Magecraft–heretical, foul, detestable. 

But, stubborn as mules were Emma and Norman, and obstinate, his persuasion would fall on deaf ears before anything else. 

He'd been stuck at an impasse.

On the flip side, he'd mulled, the girl who had led him out that unfathomable dune in his previous life was with him now, nothing had been impossible for her. He's confident of her might: her latent Mystery, he'd no scruples to use, and he had come to a decision. 

At once, he'd amended his initial plan that very night, feigning ignorance of them until their private discourse the day after to buy time. 

Then, he cooked up a new ruse. Abbreviated as follow:

1\. Let _Wechselbalg_ ran amok in the city.

2\. Pretend to be one of its victims and shroud their Magical Energy with the makeshift magical devices he created to cut off detection.

3\. Attune Norman to Fuyuki leylines.

4\. Go into hiding in the meanwhile until Norman's connection stabilized. Later, this would allow Norman as pseudo catalyst to support Emma's grand ritual by channeling all the Magical Energy of Fuyuki City directly into her. 

5\. Lastly, with Emma's Magic they'll migrate to their previous human's world.

  
Ray successfully roped them in his scheme. They kept everything under wrap, smooth and clean, in front of Tohsaka Rin. 

The brilliant actors. 

After everything had been said and done, while untoward, Ray did pity his mother. In this case, he's reminded again how 'one shouldn't judge a book by its cover' rang true–more so for Emma. Yes. Lest one hunger for a taste of eating crow, or admittedly, Ray himself had had his fair share of this bitter pill for his incredulity, thusly, a fellow victim. Despite her seemingly innocuous actions, the girl could spout some nasty lies, frighteningly credible, if not more, yet hoodwinked everybody in their wake. Worse off, not an ounce of guilty conscience could be found on her. 

Long story short, they had now wound up as free as fishes in the ocean, flick they did of their pursuer, by dint of their magnificent synergy.

Everything went smoothly. Too smoothly.

' _Funnily enough, it's unnerving.'_

"...Hey, Quit changing the topic, Emma." Ray scoffed, sounding gruff, a tad bit belligerent. "Why didn't you stop me? Normally, you're such a die hard advocate of peace and dialogue. Where's your usual catchphrases?" Asked him with sardonic astringency.

Emma flinched. Not allowed to prevaricate, she hummed evasively. Then she leaped forward–like a spry ballerina–twirled, pirouetted, and stopped at a cadence. A gentle smile graced her mien as her peridots eyes met obsidians. "But Ray, aren't you the one who've spent a long time with Ms. Tohsaka? You're not the type to make an arbitrary decision, no? I'm sure even after talking things out–you two are simply incompatible. ...Am I wrong?"

Her quip elicited an irritated grunt out of him. 

"Ray..." Emma strutted toward him and squeezed his hands as if dealing with a petulant child. "You've always borne the burden alone. Always bottling up your emotions. Always. If she's a source of your distress, and you're terribly marred by it. You think we'll let you go by yourself? My-no, our wish is and has always been for the three of us to live happily together, right?" 

" _Touché_." Indeed, it's a tacit, indisputable, wish. Exhaling slowly, Ray pointed. "What 'bout your parents, then? A real deal–you vouched for them. You'd leave without saying goodbyes?" 

"Well, they can't get angry when I'm doing something rash, especially, for someone's else sake." She scratched her cheeks bashfully.

 _'...'Can't' not 'won't'?_ ' Her choice of word was intriguing. Ray filed it away, for later contemplation.

"But here's the catch. If...if in the teeny weeny chance Ms. Tohsaka discard her priority as a mage, will you at least acknowledge her?" Emma looked up at him. There, her nefarious puppy eyes.

Ray groaned internally. 

He should’ve been immune against it. But half excruciating minute, feeling he'd buckle under it, he sought another valid opposition from his logical friend. He's rejected by his inscrutable simper, nonetheless. 

' _Heh. So that's their game.'_

"Fine." Ray pummeled her unruly lock, wresting some of her vivacious shrieks. 

' _They don't know Tohsaka Rin past sins, after all.'_

Norman aside, naivety was Emma's virtue, ultimately, he never enjoyed shattering her illusion.

"Oh. By the way, Ray, you’ve been privy about it in front of Ms. Tohsaka, but actually how much do you remember?" Emma staggered backward, pulling an enigmatic expression.

Somehow, it's off-putting. 

Because of this, he'd missed out Norman's slight shift in the background–likewise, how equally disturbing it's.

"...? My memories get fuzzy around the time we set off to the demons' capital." 

"I see. Yep. That’s a relief." She beamed, shimmering in the same intensity of the brightest star.

Ostensibly satisfied, Emma outstretched her arms, skipping along the highway, and began singing a folksong. Her action was as abrupt as ever.

_'Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten, Daß ich so traurig bin,'_

Her voice, lilting and rich as honey, rippled with warmth. 

_'Ein Märchen aus uralten Zeiten, Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.'_

Ray and Norman perked up, dumbfounded.

It's **_Die Lorelei_** –a macabre poem depicting an enthralling siren. How unfitting for their frisky Nightingale, who innocently twittering it with much vigor, so coltish and peerless in gaiety.

_'Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn,'_

What's essentially an elegy was transposed into a capriccio.

_'Und das hat mit ihrem Singen, Die Loreley getan'_

Perhaps, unconsciously being entranced, or purely seeing Emma rollicked around induced a torrent of nostalgia for the halcyon days of yore, Norman waited until she finished the lyrics. He clapped. "...Emma, where did you learn that?"

"Hm? Ah. My late aunt–" The rest of her sentence was clogged in her throat. She snapped her head upward.

* * *

The tranquil wind blew. Languid clouds drifted, unifying, transforming into a shroud of the moon sheen. 

All became nebulous black beneath.

Three of them stiffen. 

A transitory yet ominous interlude. 

Then, zephyr whistled once more through the rows of steels encompassing them, an airy cacophonous nocturne, as the twilight dispersed. 

"!!?" Emma was quick to notice the nigh outrageous materialization of wispy mist encircling them. They coiled, swirled and proliferating faster than a heartbeat. As if the waxing providence above had melted and produced opaque smokes. Moreover, they're brimming with Magical Energy, so dense, they tickled her senses. 

They crept up on them as specter’s limbs would ensnare their prey.

"What the–!?" Ray took a step backward while being extra cautious against their recondite clout. He assessed his surroundings in a careful manner.

Whereas for Norman, his mind swirled. These odorless, achromatic gas rivulets were analogous to a phantasmagoria, each a vortex that augmented Mana in the air and permeated the reality. 'But... there's no malice?'

 _Creak_.

"?" On the corner of Emma's vision, something prowled, something brimming with blood-lust. She focused her sight toward whence it stemmed. 

Underneath the moonlit arch iron-beams, lustrous creatures popped up, jet black in color and thundering in size. 

The curtains had raised up for the scavengers of the night, the portent of death–and their invasions.  
  
Ray's breath hitched.

As they paraded across the pavement, their features came into full view. Their opened-jaws flashed zigzagging incisors drenched in saliva. Purplish bolts cocooned their torsos.

When their phosphorescent eyes, six in total, locked on the neophyte magus, in an instant, they sprung into action!

Whirlwinds roared at their heels. The forerunner maimed at the most vulnerable prey, whom was late to realize their sinister presences: **_Norman_**!

Ray gritted his teeth.

Their distances approximately stretched to scant fifteen meters, with their supersonic speed, it'd be as good as nothing. His lack of experience in battlefield reared its ugly head now and he's too paralyzed to help. 

_Crash_.

A great collision. The intensity sent shockwaves to its surrounding.

Crimson juice spattered.

Ray opened his eyes, as searing heat grazed his skin. 

A giant crater was formed on the bricks. Debris flew hither thither in the aftermath. The scent of ozone drifted along it.

Yet. Norman's attacker was the one reduced into a gory lump of meat. Baked and charred into overcooked hamburger.

The beast's lethal fangs had missed its target. Simultaneously, Norman's neck was saved by a close shave.

"Stand back!" Shouted Emma.

Amidst the boys' sluggish reactions, Emma had initiated a counter-attack by firing a shot. 

Again, yellow lights whizzed by Ray's left, split the mists as a shooting star and knocked another lunging hound. 

The hound was promptly reduced to ash. Scorch marks was all its testament to Emma's eminence.

Albeit. For Emma it'd be still too precarious of her to engage in a melee withal their gulf in agility–hence, running had never been an option either, they would be outpaced so easily–she had to mow them down before it escalated to that. She hurriedly inaugurated her long-range spells. 

This negative cogitation didn’t signify her finesse in close quarter combat notwithstanding. The plain, unobstructed terrain just didn't accommodate her to fight lavishly whilst protecting the two boys. Even her normal attacks threatened to swallow her companions in fratricide. 

Fortunately, those beasts all advanced from one direction, from the other side of the bridge.

"W-What're they!?" Norman asked, the urgency blaring in his falsetto-pitch as he channeled Od into his Circuits. Fragile he might be, he refused to be a deadweight.

"They're _barghest_ : hellhounds, a derivation of household elf! Weak against holy sacraments!" Ray revved up his Crest–striking his mental matchstick against the box–and launched a mass of Gandr. Some of them hit the soaring dogs and flung them sprawling across the asphalt. They twitched profusely as their organs were rattled from the impacts. 'Tch. Too shallow.' His bullets didn't finish them off.

"Thanks!" With that information, Norman transmuted his metallic-wires in accordance. 

Spun, spun an intricate tapestry of silver filaments with his Magical Energy. They wriggled and modeled a huge owl framework. As its virtuoso conductor, Norman sent it airborne. Augustly and flamboyantly, the nocturnal hunter took a flight.

The owl spread its wings, the cords unfurled and imprisoned the galloping underworld messengers like ham nets. It caught four in total. The monsters squirmed to free itself, but to no avail since they're infused with antithetical elements. 

[ ](https://ibb.co/fH3vbth)

" _Binden und schneiden_." 

Norman's finger flicked in reminiscent of strumming a violin. The monomolecular threads crisscrossed, tightened and dismembered their captives into chunks. 

“Bleh, that's sick." Ray piped casually as he repelled another hound. Their number was shrinking by each minute. 

And expressly waiting for that opportunity–

"Pull out, you two!" Emma, their main cannon, signaled. She brandished her arm, cyclones of Magical Energy converging over the tip of her finger. 

Seeing that, the black dogs fanned out. They accelerated and bounced off the bridge poles–their trampolines–ricocheting toward her as flurries of violent blade. Their aim? If only one of them managed to stamp her out before she could unleash her missile, it'd mean a triumphant feast for these hunters.

Yet, it's too late.

" _Blōstmiġen_!" As if nocking an arrow, Emma yanked her imagery string. 

[ ](https://ibb.co/kXsWVDh)

The torpedo whirred unerringly toward the rest of the quadrupeds and blasted them apart. 

None was spared.

For an instant, the incandesce washed everything white. Concrete's shrapnel and cinders bloomed like fireworks in its proximity. The architecture shuddered by the shockwave, wailing unbidden. The fever felt raw on the children's skins and their ears were ringing.

A moment, and it's over.

Embers danced about in the air. There's a horrid laceration on the cement, spanning over thirty meters across the platform. Steam rose from it as it let out a furious hiss. Frizzling, crackling.

  
"You've got to be kidding me." Witnessing this, Ray protested, to nobody in particular. 

  
*

  
The hellhound carcasses ghosted away into particles after a while. 

The spooky mist dissipated simultaneously. 

The nightmare had saluted on its exit.

And a quiescent atmosphere set in. 

In retrospect, volleys of cerebrations rumbled within the three children personal computers.

The minutes stretched longer than ever.

"It's safe." When his familiars' radars picked no enemy around, Norman informed, thawing the lingering ice. "Now, the question is–"

"Why they able to discover us!" The trio said in unison.

"I hardly can believe Ray's Magical Devices malfunction so royally." Emma pondered. 

"...Or it's not, my Mystic Eyes state otherwise." Ray postulated with a shrug.

"Care to explain?" Requisitioned Norman. 

"These," Ray gestured. His irises glow in response, there're auroras gyrating inside. "Made me sensitive toward the flux of prana. To be exact, my Mystic Eyes register Magical Energy in the form of visual perception. Since their assault until presently, I can't see our Od. I can guarantee my Mystic Codes' layers of protection infinitely hiding them." 

"...Hmm. Neither Magical Energy nor our presences, huh. Would something more fundamental give us away?" Emma quizzed rhetorically. 

"Fundamental...?" 

"...What's your basis?" 

She’s being cryptic, nevertheless, Norman and Ray deemed whatsoever she's spouting as a plausible clue. 

"Their movements." Emma recounted their confrontation and how they'd moved in formations in reminiscent of a wild wolf pack. "They didn't ambush nor trap us in a pincer despite clearly having an intelligence so....." 

"So they didn't necessarily been hunting for us, instead, in all likelihood, they accidentally stumbled upon us while scouring for food. They had no time to outflank us." Norman summarized, resting his chin over his hand in contemplation.

"...Hellhound...fundamental, underworld. Oh." Ray connected the dots. "It's soul! They smelled out ours! Based on their legend as guardians of cemeteries, their role is to usher souls into the afterlife. Accordingly, they're endowed with special properties for it!"

"That makes sense." Norman nodded. "Let's– ...Emma?" Noticing the girl had turned reticent, he cued. "You've something to add?"

"Well, it just struck me as weird for them, **_gwyllgi_** , to appear here. In Japan. Their rate of advents has been monopolized by European continents so far, at least statistics wise." Emma paused. Silly her. How preposterous, babbling about numeric and such with her amateurish, premature assumption. And yet she segued if not for her reliable instinct. "Unless..."

"Unless there’s a specific path. Our portal in Ryuudou Temple." Norman grew pensive at the prospect. "Could it be it went haywire?"

Ray frowned. "You’re jumping into conclusion. Figuratively speaking, our portal doesn’t even have a door yet. None can't pass through something that's nonexistent."

"What about a window?" Emma gibed.

Ray scowled, chopping her crown. "Not funny, Emma."

"No, she made a point." Norman interposed. "How about the passage Wechselbalg uses?"

"I set it so their contract will be terminated on the spot when my decoys are arrested. It's done this evening. Losing its anchor, Wechselbalg has returned to be a nameless, mediocre changeling." Ray waved dismissively. "Not belongs to this world; it can't do a shit anymore."

"What if it retaliates because of that?" Emma pushed on, unconvinced.

"It's–"

"Impossible? No such thing! A gap exists whenever you abolish a contract!" Cried her out with brazen persistence. Her iridescent chrysoberyls eyes gleaned sharply in the darkness.

"What are you talk–" Ray clicked his tongue mid-sentence. Stupid him! It existed. A split moment when a contract was annulled. The moment Wechselbalg's collar was removed and its temporary power was stripped, it could do a last-resort retribution for its employer before it's ousted. A narrow window, but a loophole nevertheless.

"–I'm going!" Ray's pallor had conveyed his oversight. Thereby, mortified, Emma stirred to retrace their steps.

"Wait! Where're you going, Emma?!" Ray scrambled to bar her helter-skelter march. 

"To check! What else?! It's few kilometers here to Ryuudou temple! It means the aberration has pervaded that much!" 

"No, hold your horses, Emma! You're mistaken!" As she ceased her motion to listen, Ray pointed downward. "This location is just special. Essentially, fair folks have unorthodox rules, and are governed by them. For instance, they only appear in 'border regions'."

Ray gesticulated further. "Look. This bridge is a boundary between Miyama and Shinto; beneath it: a river mirrored the heavens, its estuary and the sea intersecting farther on, beyond the horizon. Not just that! Just now, the clouds eclipsed the moon when it's midnight. See, there's hardly any place in Fuyuki fulfill so many a criteria! The situation isn't that dire!" Yet. He didn’t say.

"Ray is right," Norman gently tapped Emma's shoulder. "We need to clean up the mess we've made as well as putting a stronger Bounded Field here before going anywhere." 

His velvety voice did a wonder to mollify Emma's agitation. But a second later, she fidgeted, teeter-tottering on the balls of her feet. "Uh, sorry. I can't help." 

Ray leveled her a doubtful stare. "Why? You're bushed from the earlier battle?"

Emma shook her head. "I'm not low on Magical Energy. On the contrary, I'm still brimming. Just, I never learn a restoration spell." 

"Figures." Ray sighed. For a bulldozer like her the concept of 'repairing' would be as alien as a blue giraffe. He's not even surprised: she's still loaded whereas regular Mage would be sucked dry after casting such a high-caliber thaumaturgy. "Fine. I'll demonstrate, you copy."

"No need." Norman interrupted, flashing them a refreshing smile. He picked a fist-size rubble and cut his fingertip. 

" _Zurückspulen der Zeit. Wiedererlangen Sie Ihre Schönheit. Werden Sie lebendig._ "

A drop of his blood plopped to the ground. His Od seeped into its invisible orifices. Then–

_Crackle. Crackle._

The noises of almonds being fried echoed.

Crepitating, the scattered rubbles fused together like jigsaw puzzles into twenty or so quasi-golems. 

Spines out of riveted steels. Limbs out of rebar. Flesh out of masonry.

With solid skeleton, their heights ranged from badminton racket to basketball hoop. They lined up and tessellated the riven surfaces using their own body components. 

_Ein. Zwei. Drei. Vier._

Wobbling. Hobbling. Yet with a steady rhythm. Little by little, the road regained its shape. 

Emma let out a snicker, while their presentations were far from pleasing, somehow it reminded her of toy soldiers.

_Ein. Zwei. Drei. Vier._

The golems produced flames and smelted the concretes. Produced mortars and glued the cracks. Produced brooms and swept their litters.

It's a top tier Transfiguration, so to speak. 

No, an understatement. Why: it went beyond that. 

"This..." Crafty bastard. Ray gave Norman an exasperated look. If he had this spell in his repertoire then last week Tohsaka Rin hadn't need to cancel their lesson to fix the lawn–in other words, no free time for them. The vulpine boy was using it as a pretext to inspect Ray's reactions up close while he's still pretending as a stranger. 

Worse still, the fact Emma didn’t bring it up as she enjoyed this spectacle, proved she's an accomplice, had aided and abetted.

Norman chuckled. His amused sapphires indicated he knew Ray knew. "We're pressed for time. So what's the harm?" He offered him a seraphic smile, and none to blame.

* * *

  
_Briing_.

_Briiiing_.

The shrilling noise invaded her dream.

Incessantly. Mercilessly. Deafeningly. 

"Uh, morning, already, cut me some slack, I hate..." Rin slurred disjointedly. The hustle-bustle week spent with her live-in pupils was taking a toll on her body; and now, she felt the full brunt of it. How they could be always so frisky first thing in the morning escaped her, disgruntled her: as much as embarrassing it was, to proclaim such banal issue as her anathema.

_Briing_.

_Briiiing_.

Wait. It's not her alarm clock.

She rubbed her eyes, teetering between lethargy and awareness. After giving a quick glance around, she realized she's seated in her office chair. Her Fortnum and Mason tea had gone cold on her, its ambrosial tang was tad a past glory. Across her desk, the phonograph–the inciter of her predicament– was somberly playing Debussy's Clair de Lune. "Oh. I dozed off."

_Briing._

_Briiiing_.

She groused and walked to the parlor to answer the persistent caller: whilst half cursing them, half cussing the Persian carpet that almost trip her. 

The corridor was shrouded in gloom, nippy. Only the buffet lamp was on above the telephone desk–the rotary dial telephone sit ostentatiously upon it, as it awaited its attendant to tend its quiver excitement. 

Honestly, It's a pain.

Rin couldn't complain though. She'd derided Ray's proposal to upgrade such impractical a relic to keep.

But it's a suggestion as casting pearls before swine. In the era of globalization, Magi were no better from primates, the likes of smartphone trivia, plus operation went over her head as abstruse codices. 

"Hello?" Her greeting was far from courteous: croaky and terse. But the other line seemed to not take any offense from it, instead she could almost descry their breath of relief.

"...Rin?" A slight pause. "My apologies, I've committed a breach of etiquette by contacting you in the middle of night, I thought you've not gone to bed yet." 

A dulcet, yet regal, and familiar voice.

"Arthuria?" Rin ventured. "It's fine. What's the urgency for you to–w-wait, come again, night!?" She must had heard her wrong. 

"Yes, it's quarter to twelve?"

She darted to the nearest clock, its pendulum swung boisterous eerie clangs in the heavy silence; it read 23:45 pm, as if dousing her with cold water, cold as guillotine blade. _Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no._ She'd never been ever more awake then. 

The house was empty. She couldn't sense the children's presences in her Bounded Field. Did they meander about till this late? They're not the type to play this kind of atrocious prank, right?

Panic swelled within her tumultuous mind. "Sorry, Saber! I'll contact you later!" While she heard Arthuria nonplussed gasp, she hung up on her and rushed outside, snatching her robe from the foyer hanging pole, and donning it in a hurry.

At once Rin summoned her familiars: jewel birds to her side. "Scout the city! Find them. Leave no stone unturned!" Her order pithy as she stepped onto the bleak darkness, bundled with nothing but trepidation. 

  
*

  
Her legs hot, her lungs burning with acids, her heart hammering erratic, contrapuntal notes. Rin had arrived at the deserted park of Miyama. Sweats wetting her blouse as sticky, uncomfortable grease, she wiped her forehead along her jumbled ebony mop and scanned the environment.

This's the last station the children's Magical Energy could be traced. 

Crouching, she prepped her gems. Retrocognition wasn't her métier, and her Magic Crest had been transferred to Ray, but she'd make do with her precious stones. 

For centuries, Tohsaka lineage had dabbled in Jewel Magecraft. They stored their excess of Magical Energy to their most compatible medium: jewels, and released the energy accumulated when appropriate. The trinkets matured by how much Od she stockpiled inside. Each different mineral or crystal augmented various gimmick it's compatible with. Topaz was wind, Ruby was fire, Sapphire was water, and so on.

They're Tohsaka's Mystic Codes–support weapon of Magi. Its minus aspect, however, was that they break upon use, hence, sumptuous, at a rate so stressing to the wallet. 

_"O' Geist des Mondes, Beschützer der Nacht. Bitte hören Sie mein Gebet. Bringen Sie Licht in die Dunkelheit. Die Vergangenheit nachverfolgen!"_

She put her hematite on the curb. Light sparked upward, in one undulating line, in reminder of a kindled fuse, then branched out, twining sinuously and shattered into thin air. 

Displayed before her stereopticon–holographic pictures, Ray would say–of past sequences, the trio cavorted till sun swam, half-drowning behind the clouds. Then it appeared, out of blue, a shape-shifter, whisking them away to who knows where. Rin shuddered. Right away, the videos frizzled: bees buzzing, and puffed, puffed, like cotton candies dissolving, and nothing.

Undaunted, Rin forked up more gems, she could afford to be more frugal here. She conjured another investigation spells. But several attempts later–

"Drat! Everything's a boon!" _What a wild goose chase!_ Exhausted, Rin massaged the bridge of her nose. 

Their Magical Energy traces were absent, not screened, most ubiquitous, yet nullified. A paradox. She ruffled her hair in vexation, her fingers ran through it as wild spiders intended on making her bald. 

_Get a grip, Tohsaka Rin_! Arthuria and Shirou entrusted their children to her!

Racking her brain, she tried to tackle her problems into a simpler logical quiz: first, did a changeling, that shadow, really kidnap her pupils? Them: exceptional, brilliant pupils? Secondly, if they're spirited away into Faerie, why her investigation informed her nothing of the felon? Thirdly, what'd Arthuria wanted to tell her? 

All of a sudden, they flashed on her. The sweet fragrance of tea, the soporific music, the somnolent temperature of her office, the relentless ringing: why, oh why Arthuria called her at midnight? Not early? Unless, she'd been trying; yet it'd never connected till an hour ago. Maybe someone tampered with the line? Could be her sleep was induced? Who did it? 

It's too obvious.

"Those impish chumps!" She roared indignantly. _Nay angels, but wolves in sheep’s' clothing! Pulled their wools over her eyes and gallivanting about! Wait until–_

In that moment, she sensed it: her Bounded Field at the Ryuudou Temple skewed, like a balloon inflating, its rubber screeched and a slight, harmless poke would rip it asunder.

What...? What now?

Her stomach did a queasy flip-flop. There’s no way it's not connected to her woes. It'd opened a can of worms for her–the last thing she needed, and she knew it's just the tip of the iceberg henceforth.

Saddled with a sudden nausea, she raced to Fuyuki's sole temple.

  
*

  
Rin reached the Ryuudou Temple cavern–standing over its jutted crag–beholding it with horror and despair for its monstrous mutation. The immense Magical Energy inside churned and snarled as rampaging animal would inside a cage. It's a matter of time before it ravaged a pandemonium and all hell would come loose. The scale would pale not to Angra Mainyu's previous Holocaust in Fuyuki.

Mage Association would not stay put. The iron-clad law of Magus world was to protect the Mystery from publics' eyes, the common folk. Death sentence awaited whosoever had breached it, no exception, no mercy.

"Don't tell me they're in there!?"

Rin's heart plummeted. If her assumption was correct, Ray was a lost cause. No prissy mother would ever save him. Much less divine interferences. 

He'd die. 

Ray was a mage: his life, his own responsibility to bear; he should've known, she'd pound into him this awareness since his early age. 

And that went for her as well, as a Mage, even on the expend of her successor, her priority was clear: retrieve Tohsaka Magic Crest, preserve the Tohsaka lineage. She'd chosen this path fully prepared for the ruthless obligation.

And yet, why she wavered?

She'd betrayed her sister. She'd sacrificed her. Had punish her to death.

_Why agonized over it?_

_Why now of all times?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tohsaka Rin can't catch a break xp


	5. Elphame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take your time. It's a very long chapter ahead! 😉

When the three of them arrived at Ryuudou Temple, the Bounded Field had reached its enervated state: a bloated rubber that altered its shape in furious, violent speed. 

"This looks brighter than I'm in trepidation for." Said Emma with relief. 

It's a bristling globule; magical steams leaked out with every puff of its blustery tantrums, nonetheless, it's evidently holding on longer than predicted. Whenever vapors gushed through the small pores of the outer membrane, it swelled accordingly so it never came to an outburst; there's no weak link, the Magical Energy inside flowed seamlessly as one entity. Emma praised be, whosoever creators or designers held responsible for a marvelous job of it.

"Yeah." Norman hummed a non-committal noise by her side. 

He's unwinding the silver cords that made up a giant owl–It'd been their choice of transportation to Ryuudou: fastest, airborne and was patched with Ray's concealment rune. "But we must mend it fast, it'll pop in a moment notice." 

Ray walked closer to the edge of the cavern precipitous rocks, inching to inspect the situation below better. "We got to round it off to fix the nuclei. This'll be going to be a pain in the ass." He announced with hardly a cheer. The Bounded Field had five nuclei in total, each was placed in the outer layer resembling nothing as much as a ring. Its diameter was approximately three kilometers.

Emma couldn’t agree more, it'll be challenging. Unlike the thin mist which had laden the bridge, iridescent magical fog, more denser and thicker, had obscured their surrounding; somehow resembling psychedelic art, it’s blurring every object in radius two meters to dizzying contours. 

Definitely not encouraging in the least: since repairing Bounded Field required meticulous operation.

The air tasted sweet and piquant. Magical Energy swamped the area, enriching every living beings with its delectable poison. Magi would rejoice over the abundance of Mana, but normal humans would suffer greatly for it. This fact didn't endear to her moral justice at all–

A twinkle of slivery light jolted Emma out her trance. 

Two beady eyes, glinted with killing intent, suddenly manifested behind Ray, and Emma realized with terror, whatever it was, was holding a scimitar. Hovering over his head, it portended a quick, silent decapitation while their target remained oblivious. Her breath hitched, wanted to tip him off, but having a second thought about it: alerting Ray would just throw extraneous variables when time was of the essence, hence, Emma swiftly took a knife out her skirt and hurled it right at the middle of the gleaming beads. 

"GIHHHHH!!!!!!!"

A blood-curdling cry, contralto and stentorian, ripped the tranquil atmosphere. 

Ray wheeled, tripping over his own feet, to see a hulking monster lay immobile in front of him. "What?" Croaked him, dumbly. 

Emma hadn't the leeway to explain. There's another one lumbering from Ray's left.

She knew what they're now, though–a creature widely known as trolls. Its skin was an unhealthy hue of moss, parched, full of scratches, its head partly bald, its body a mangled boulder of muscles and fats–wrapped in a shabby, filthy rag, which was insufficient a coverage for its bulking size. 

The ugly troll took a big swing of its glimmering hatchet.

" _Gecræftgaþ_."

Emma cast a strengthening spell to her limbs and launched herself to Ray, sending bits of dirt and grass scattering all over in her wake.

In an instant, she'd crossed the distance and appeared before the troll. Emma elbowed the troll’s wrist, knocking the hatchet off its grip. An angry grunt escaped the troll. She ignored that.

Emma drew her leg to a vertical front-split, knocking its jaw with considerable force. The troll staggered, its elephantine torso hunching to a u shape; in pain, it clutched its fractured mandible–and inadvertently exposing its undefended crown to her. At this display of vulnerability, Emma let her arched-leg flow fluidly as waterfall, obeying the gravity, to crush its skull. With a sickening crack, the troll was subdued to the ground. The force of her heel plus the troll's weight made a swallow hole in the soil underneath. 

"Emma!" Called Norman suddenly, sounding horrified.

Emma hadn't needed for his alert, though, she'd smelled the strong stench of grime coming from behind her. With her yet diminishing ongoing-momentum, she twirled and delivered an exemplar round-house kick to the stomach of another troll. The troll skidded backward and stopped a few meters away only by frictions.

Emma landed a dainty arabesque herself and connected it to one illusion turn–the hem of her billowing skirt resembled a blooming carnation as she reached for her hidden stiletto beneath it. Not missing a beat, she jumped toward her sluggish, blubbering enemy, performed a backflip off its shoulder–which worked as a sturdy springboard and stabbed its neck while upside-down in midair, then lastly propelled her stiletto to the fourth troll's eye who had just made its debut out the vibrant fog.

The troll jerked as though electrified, the stiletto had embedded itself deep in its brain. It collapsed not a moment after. 

Was sure it's dead, Emma yanked her stiletto back, flicking the blood off, without even batting an eye. For her, there’s no glory or a feeling of rejection in taking lives in a fair condition, it's but a circle of reincarnation, a noble consumption.

"Emma!" Norman and Ray rushed to her side. Their expressions were less of presentable, how indeed, she could discern a mingled of awe, concern, and exasperation on them; Ray especially, seemed eager to put in his two pennies worth. But she hushed them with a finger on her lips.

Visibility was still very poor. Emma closed her eyes and concentrated on her surrounding, expanding her Od as invisible gossamer detectors. They rippled outward in gentle rhythm.  
  
Sensing the coast was cleared few minutes later, she gave an audible sigh and broke into a smile. "Sorry, what's it again?"

"You reckless!"

"Are you okay, Emma?!"

The boys hollered at her in tandem. 

It's heartrending, so Emma entertained them a remorseful chuckle. "Yep and yep. Don’t worry, I'll be careful next time." Norman and Ray didn’t buy it, of course, if their reproachful stares were any of indication. She had the record of being the overadventerous one. That's a minus point for her credibility. Regardless, in her defense, her effort to mollify did count. 

"Anyway, it just took a massive nosedive, didn’t it?" She gestured to the cavern below.

Ray was far from pleased with her comment. "If you're referring why they could somehow teleport out of the mist, don't bother. This smog has just become some sort of a portal, a different rule–" he clamped up at the glimpse of her smug grin: her positive stance apparently dawning on him, fortified him into a muted reflection, where eventually, with a tutting noise, he spat in surrender. "Yes, it'd be a suicide to not come earlier." 

“Emma, you don't need to rub it on him: oh why you?" Norman shook his head dramatically, convoying the theatric. 

Emma humored him a pained face. "It depends. I'm waiting for my magic word." 

Ray did a face-palm at their antics. The other two expected him to lash back at any moment's notice, yet, once he showed his mien again, the smirk he plastered didn't seem much less disposed to spice-up their joke. He bowed reverently. "Glory your most excellent majesty; I express my sincerest gratitude, for insightful thou are, hath saved my worthless life. Blimey, I reckon spectacular a gymnast as much as a martial artist? Quite a departure from a lassie I've chanced upon hours ago. Forsooth, I might’ve lost my upper-half dealing with a mage so violent of her, peeled the entire expanse of a paved road. O' what an ordeal." 

That wiped the victorious look Emma had and swooped Norman to a laughing fit.

Ray was telling her off. 'Wouldn't it kill you to exercise a little restraint?'

Emma, flushed red, spluttered. "I-I can't engage in a melee with those gwyllgi, for your information! Their skeletal are way more robust. I'd be hard-pressed to get them in one blow even with strengthened limbs!"

"Yeah, I know. While these trolls have sturdy skin resembling alligator, any strong attack will do the trick for them; on the other hand, Black Hounds' outer shells are laced with Od, only Magical Energy, which works in the same principle, may hope to put a dent on it." Emma wasn’t quite sure, but she fancied there's something accusatory in Ray's tonality even he's agreeing with her.

He continued. "Jokes aside, we'd run out of time sooner. So, guard us Emma while Norman and I work to mend the barrier."

"Oh. You don’t need to. I'll handle this." Emma scoured the leather pocket on her side of her skirt and pulled some botanical sheaves out of it. 

Ray gave her a questioning look. "Didn't you just admit you're not up to the task?"

Emma nodded. "'Mending' things is beyond me. Creating a Boundary Field is another matter altogether though. For a lack of better term, it's a basic of the basic for a Mage. I can’t hold a candle to the refinement and flexibility Ryuudou Temple’s barrier has, but mine won't lose in quality at all."

"Emma, this cavern's radius stretches to few kilometers, can you surround them in one go? Even the base of this barrier had five pivotal points to maintain them up..." Norman voiced his concern as he looked at the darkening fogs. 

"Going through them one by one is a more dangerous option now. There’re trolls and other dwellers roaming around unbound. I can just create a bigger barrier outside this barrier, so once it retires, mine will take the baton off its duty." Emma smiled, in a blatant attempt to mollify. "Don’t worry. Admittedly, my method is a bit unconventional; so, as long as the coincidences and requirements are met, even putting up a Boundary Field as vast as the entire Fuyuki City is a cinch for me."

Emma, thus, arranged bundles of herbs–Rosemary, Sage, Lemongrass, Aspen, Eucalyptus, Cinnamon, Calendula, and Lilac–to the ground. Ray recognized each of them having sacred healing and cleansing essence. She crushed them and scattered the fragments in the air as she began to chant the forgotten language of foreign ilk. 

"Geclænse. Geclænse séo eabd.   
(Cleanse. Cleanse the land.)"

She tiptoed daintily and started to dance–something similar to the famous Nutcracker's Sugar Plum Fairy ballet variation, if amateur Ray, and his encyclopedic book, could hazard a guess. Ray's eyes then shifted to look at the slightly worn out tips of her uniquely tailored shoes. Tips that crumbled away over and over again, in what looked like repeated, fleeting kisses. Almost rectangular for their poignant encounters, in a reminiscence of ballerina shoes’ snouts, nevertheless, they indeed had short heels to speak of their normalcy.

Her footwork was frisk and neat, loyal to cadences, never straying, as if an elf had materialized before them. Every delicate movement sent her diaphanous skirt aflutter. Every prose of her spell set those sprinkles of herb aflame in beautiful hues of indigo and amber. Their will-o-wisps ashes produced refreshing minty fragrances. 

" _Gifol bléda. Genihtsum tréowgewrid. Fæderríce on eorþ._

(Bountiful fruits and blossoms. Lush greeneries. Heaven on Earth.)"

Colorful florets sprouted from within the soil in the wake of her airy steps. Their petals frolicked around. 

_"Blētsa hit. Belúcan hit. Gebede þá hálig Brytenlond._

(Bless it. Protect it. Worship the Holy Britain Isle.)"

Her little pretty fingers strummed invisible harp. The dimension shifted. 

A rift had opened. 

The reality was overpainted.

High-pitched tinkles of bells resounded near, yet far. Elementals sang with joy. Lower spirits susurrated and fizzed. They set themselves apart from the cluster of Magical Energy accumulated around her to let 'something' settle. 

Whereas Ray was having goosebumps. Cold sweats trickled his chin. His heart drummed pitiful havoc, louder than when the troll almost beheaded him. In his periphery, he could catch a glimpse of Norman having the same symptoms. In fact, if he remembered it right, Norman as a homunculus, an extension of the planet, might be more sensitive to these supernatural changes than him.

The space was turning sacred. It's neither malicious nor divine. It's an imaginary world: the extraterrestrials' abode; for a lack of better term, it'd become an ill-suited place for humans to sustain life. 

" _Onben. Ancym ælfscíene cynedom, Brytenríce!_

(A beckoning prayer. Come hither Fairy Kingdom, vast Kingdom of Britain!)"

Golden sands rose materialized and veered, creating billowy bars of a gargantuan bird cage that enclosed the entire premise. It dissolved a moment later, fleeing to oblivion. In its place, an unearthly barrier existed.

What felt like eternity ended. The unseen exuberant crowds applauded her performance and went back to their slumber. 

Emma sighed. 

"This'll do for now." She pivoted, and graced them with a bright mien to convey nothing of her greatest feat. "Ray, Norman, you should wait here. I'll destroy the 'portal' inside the barrier lickety split and come back!" 

She started to rush ahead, but Ray restrained her wrist, regarding her with irreconcilable scowl.

"Are you expecting us to fucking comply?" 

* * *

The frosty grass crunched under their feet. 

The temperature was surprisingly being difficult inside the barrier Norman noted, hovering nigh sub-zero. 

A haze of polychromatic miasma hung over the lush foliage. Skittish stream of lights, that were robbed from their fun, were taking shy peeks from the apertures, oscillating, by jitters of their own agitation. 

It should be witching hour outside the barrier, yet no matter how he sliced it, what’d greeted them here was an overcast day.  
  
The three children ventured deeper and deeper into uncharted plane, a pristine realm of the Fae.

Everything was new like a breath of fresh air for Norman: exotic flora, bizarre denizens, iridescent mosses making a soft mattress for the floor, perfume of the primordial woods skulking abounds; the forest was very much alive, pulsating with mystical sentinel. This's the last vestige of paradise buried beneath the Reverse-side of the world. 

Thus as a complete fledgling against this inhospitable region's unknown menace, Norman dutifully followed Emma's sprightly perambulation–she's cavorting about whilst simultaneously navigating with expertise–which, in fact, proved to be too high a hurdle for the unathletic him. As the girl hopped over the gnarly roots, she whipped some mythical dragonflies along her way. 

Those insects with prismatic translucent wings–whirring like ripples of aurora, sprinkling fairy dusts and sparkles of bioluminescence all around–were pirouetting over the tiny flower bed. 

They’re fascinating.

Norman's eyes naturally followed their unpredictable maneuvers. "Ouch!" His yelp overlapped with another striking soprano. 

“What’s that for, Ray!?" Emma protested as she rubbed her crown.

"You nutcase lacked awareness! It's dark here! Quit screwing around! And Norman," Ray pointedly glared. "We're not having a damn picnic now! Don't get sidetracked!"

"Yes, mother-in-law." Emma and Norman said in tandem.

Ray huffed, veins twitching on his forehead. "Good grief, what I'm going to do with you dolts. We're stuck at an impasse now because we can't locate the portal with the cavern freaking morphing into a huge jungle! Fucking behave, won’t you!?"

"Then, let me erase your concerns, Ray!"

"What?"

"True, it's a bit gloomy here.... Uh, wait a minute..." 

Emma leaped from one tree to another with the dexterity of a nimble feline, scoping out the encompassing wilderness, and thereupon her strained ears suddenly picked a low whistle. The melody getting intricate and louder as it grew nearer. 

"Eh?"

Befuddled, Norman looked upward. For a transient moment, the tenebrosity receded under the fiery lit of a flying bird. 

"Great timing," 

While the boys were being transfixed by its resplendent entrance, Emma swiftly pitched a pebble toward its direction. The small stone precisely swished by the blazing fowl. Yet, perhaps urged by its natural instinct, it flapped its humongous wing to veer farther from the trajectory line, inadvertently shedding some of its beautiful plumage everywhere before vanishing from view.

Emma thus collected all the strewn feathers. She stowed those glittering wonders in three separate flasks enwreathed with ivy from her dimensional pocket, and fastened one of them to her belt. 

"Here, pin this on your clothes," She doled out the two containers to the boys.

"Emma just now..." Ray started.

"That’s Hercinia. A night-banisher which paves a path for travelers through the murkiest shadow since the olden days in Germany. It's a tame magical beast, so you can actually capture it for emergency ration as well, but if possible I rather not..."

"Uh, yeah, consuming such a garish bird is a bit....." Norman barely withheld his opinions as he witnessed the stubborn fog curled its sinuous arms away from his phosphorescing container. This’s certainly a feat the fire Ray had been conjuring couldn’t accomplish.

"Why? It's not poisonous and taste pretty good, you know? Anyway, that one down, so let's tackle the other problem!" 

"You have a clue?" Ray's brow rose in skepticism.

"Yep! Come on." She beckoned, pacing into one passage with golden shredded tapestry.

Vexed, Norman trailed along. "Emma my familiar picks up nothing there." He'd dispatched his nocturnal reconnoiter and it borne no fruitful discoveries for two hours counting.

"Of course, we're on the outer edge of Faerie. The plane is constantly shifting. It's tantamount to searching a needle in a haystack." Emma broached the subject as she brushed aside the serpentine branches, and stomped the pestilent stalks for Norman's easy access across the undulating lane. "Ray, you're mistaken. Ryuudou cavern isn't being transformed, it's being assimilated. This dimension has no limit. Seeing Hercinia has patented my suspicion. **_Wechselbalg_** isn't a random low-class spirit you named–or you crested as such."

"What do you mean?" 

"A great mischievous spirit has hoodwinked you to bestow it with another name by faking its true identity. Let's say. **_Roggenmuhme._** It has a myriad of nicknames, but there’s no denying it’s one of the highest class changeling. I bet you've read about it once or twice."

Indeed, Ray had stumbled upon a Germanic literature myth mentioning about Feldgeister, or corn daemons, in general; Roggenmuhme was one of its anthropomorphic kind. The mainstream credence described it as a female corn demon with fiery fingers. Her tar bosoms were so long, as such must be thrown over her shoulders when she runs, and their tips were of igneous iron. It's, in reality, a shape-shifter, whose presence indicated a bountiful harvest. But that’s neither here nor there for her and him.

"Then how I could strike a bargain with such a high-class spirit, notwithstanding, with a mediocre compensation otherwise?"

"The Ireland's spell you taught us: Gairum augus coisricim thú. It's quite effective, no? I assumed you've used it before, hence ' ** _Roggenmuhme_** ' has seen the novelty in your method. Perhaps, intrigued, it's come to be at your services. Perhaps, certifying certain merits on your bargaining chip, it's slaved itself away with your decoys. In any cases, its motive is irrelevant, for the most part, fairies are of whimsical nature. They'll bite as long as it provides them an amusement. It may have opened the portal in retaliation, or in gratitude, for all its care, and none would be the wiser. Regardless of, 'name' is a strong binding force. When under the label of _**Wechselbalg**_ , it could only exert powers insomuch as it's permitted. The moment the contract is terminated, it reclaims its eminence to connect the 'Portal' to its native land."  
  
Although the circumferential evidences were unreliable at best, Emma's deduction perfectly explained the ongoing anomaly. 

So, she's actually been doing some proper investigations. Their zilch encounter with a herd of Trolls, or any nasty traffics, must be attributed to her apt navigation as well. "...My bad," Ray said, miffed, turning reticent thereafter, as if flagellating himself.

"Oh, butter up, Ray. Don't take it too hard on yourself. We all share the blame for not noticing it sooner." Stopping on her heels, Emma twirled and crouched down. She prodded the verdurous berries-like thickets under the knobby ferns, which chirred and slapped each other in gentle rhythm as zephyr caressed its dipping fronds. Her finger set the demure spinney astir, with a lethargic grumble, Lilliputian fairies poke their buttocks through the snaggy slits before slipping their full bodies into view.

"Good day, fair neighbors. May I had the pleasure to offer you these treats in exchange of information?" Emma showed the nutty cookies on her palms. 

One member of the petit colony rushed happily to munch on the appetizing tidbit, but was scotched mid-way by the leader–Norman assumed by its flashiest apparels–who'd grabbed its collar. Thrashing, it bleated incoherently to futile attempts.

" _Thee jest, human's child_." The leader spoke, parroted by its companion in rumbustious chorus. _"We art not acquaintances. Thee shan't giveth us aught and shan't us bid thee aught either_."

"Hmmm...By that logic, it's fine if we introduce ourselves, right?"

_ "Forsooth. Bid us thy name first." _

"Sure! I am–" 

"Oi, E–" Ray shouted, but Emma interjected him with her index finger.

 _"Mi-fhín"_ She finished.

The adorable coterie were thus brought abuzz by her statement, whispering into each other in what seemed like an impromptu conference. Several minutes later, the leader stepped out. 

_"We art of Oberon’s ilk. Anon, state thy business, lassie." With its approval, the ravenous members scrambled to divide their hauls._

"Divulge me everything about the unregistered 'entrance', if you please."

_"We knoweth not. Proce'd to northwest, beyond the grassy knoll, within the starry lagoon, thither, thee shall findeth a clue."_

  
*

"Emma, are you a licensed explorer?"

The marigold-haired girl let go of the cedar scion again, and they pushed on toward the direction it fell. She said it's a basic divination to regain one's bearings, substituting a compass in the ever expanding boundaries. The ritual implemented a 'cane' as an intermediary between nature to figure out the right path. Ray had questioned its efficaciousness, nevertheless, Emma herself had always the knack to convince him otherwise.

She's been doing this in a fixed interval that Ray started to concede she’s not simply fooling around.

"I'm not an affiliated personnel of Clock Tower, Ray, if that's what you’re implying." Emma pouted, as if insulted. "I say, my father indeed has loose connections with some of them, even with a few Lords, but it's of complete business transactions. He's more or less a wandering mercenary after all. Because I've tagged along since forever, these skills naturally stuck with me."

As Emma trotted on the subject, Norman was reminded of the conversation he had with Emiya Shirou months ago.

＊＋＊

_“Take a seat, Norman. It's an important discussion. This's something Emma is utterly aware of, it’s about my true occupation."_

_"Aren't you a free-lancer enforcer, father?"_

_"That's closer as my side-gig more than not." Shirou sneered grimly. "I'm a Guardian contracted with Alaya. Ah. Do you know what Alaya is?"_

_"Of course. Our World【Planet】has a safety mechanism to defend itself called Counter Forces. And Counter Forces are further divided into two types: Gaia and Alaya; these are intangible, passive and balancing spiral energies, which bore no emotions, akin to Libra's scales. Gaia is Earth's representative, the planet's intrinsic wish to survive and prosper. Alaya, on the other hand, is the collective unconscious will of mankind to avoid extinction. Each of them enlist physical proxies to deal with events too threatening to address with indirect intervention. Alaya's emissaries are Heroic Spirits and Counter Guardians, human spirits who pledge their eternal service to Alaya in return for power during their lifetime. So, despite being alive you're one of them father?"_

_"An exemplary answer, boy. Yeah, I'm without doubt an Alaya's agent. Nevertheless a bit special an occurrence, all owing to my 'incurable illness', so to speak. My dream is to become a Hero of Justice, chasing after the unreachable star, this what fate has led me to. "_

_"How ironic. Isn’t Counter Guardian a factor summoned forth by the despair of mankind?"_

_Shirou laughed. "You sure don't mince your words. Right, I'm in constant commissioned when the world is overridden with chaos. For my ideal, for a 'miraculous reunion', I chose to discard my humanity. Well, it can’t be helped, I've been an incorrigibly twisted individual." A sharp glint then appeared in his eyes. "This pain me to admit, but Emma, my daughter, is similarly a fool who won’t rest unless everybody is 'saved'. I've heard of your tales, she’s a revolutioner. You guys are, for better and worse, brokenly amazing."_

_"Are you afraid she's pursuing the same destruction path as you, father?"_

_"No, you ought to know, that girl is savvy, a definite logic in her madness, unlike a self-sacrificing bastard like me."_

_Ah. Norman could feel the jab._

_Shirou scratched his neck. "I've once joked about the stupidity of actually trying to build a Paradise on Earth, believe or not, that girl went all flustered by my question, "Eh, are you perhaps against it, dad?! What to do, I've set everything into motion... should I revise my plan? Even though you'd be free from your obligation hmm..." She trailed off thereafter with an unreadable expression. The next day, she readily handed me a 'vellum'. It's, in fact, Atlas Institute's contract. My heart almost leaped out of my throat. Unbeknownst to all, my girl has acquired the fabled missing treasures. Moreover, having two at her disposal, she said I may use the spare if my duty calls for it. It's scary. Forget Tohsaka, even that stoic former Lord El-Melloi, would throw a fit if they catch a wind of this."_

_Shirou sighed in resignation. "Impossible. It sadden me to no end I can't ever fathom such a bundle of unpredictability that is my daughter..."_

_Ordinary father would have whined about this unfairness, this trampling sense of defeat, Emiya Shirou, however, a man who accepted all his vulnerabilities and fallacy._

_"Despite everything, I know my daughter is going to lead the World to a future overflowing with happiness. It's quixotic. Nonetheless, a civilization, that has advanced too quickly and therefore stalemating, is doomed to be culled by Human Order. She's treading on thin ice, just one careless slip, and Gaia or Alaya would design her as an obtrusive threat."_

_"Would you be deployed to eliminate Emma then?"_

_"Don’t make such a scary face. Parricide, or Filicide, either isn’t happening on my watch. I'd rather slit my throat first. Just understand; our situation is a bit complicated. Arthuria isn't an exception. We’re too alike and beyond salvation. Crap. ...Sorry, I'm being cruel. The point is I want your wisdom to assist Emma hereinafter."_

_How repulsive._

_How irresponsible._

_How dare he foisting off this upon him...?_

_Confronted by the raw, unfiltered evaluation, Norman couldn't possibly refuse the role._

_This man wasn't in the wrong, Norman was as humane as possible, all his vindictiveness, callousness, atrocious sins, sorrow, fury, compassion, affection and sympathy; it's directed in the right place and people._

_That’s why, Norman couldn’t accept him._

_For Norman von Einzbern and Emiya Shirou, there wouldn’t be a consensus between them._

_Emiya Shirou was being selfishly selfless._

_Emiya Shirou loves his family._

_As such, he wouldn’t deny his daughter's idealistic notion._

_As such, he's hapless to prevent the ensuing spirals of tragedy._

_Don’t drag her into a battlefield she’s not part of._

_Don't burden her with unnecessary baggage anymore._

_Norman had a lot to complain about... but... he locked them up_

  
_"On one condition...."_

_Norman balled his tiny fists._

  
_"I request a Self-Geis Scroll 【Imperishable Binding Curse】 of you..."_

_＊＋＊_

"..man?"

Norman gritted his teeth. Recalling such distasteful episode made him nauseous. 

"Norman!"

His bubbling indignation receded at her bell-like voice. 

"Ah. Sorry Emma, we're talking about your survival skills, right? Can you give me a briefing, precautionary tips, if you will?"

Emma gave him an appraising look, and while his demeanor betrayed nothing of his thoughts, Norman knew Emma knew, as ever. Plastering a cryptic smile, she let the matter slide. 

"Gladly! Let's see...first carry these white birch charm and pouch... Then..."

Emma's lecturing voice meshed together with the backdrop breeze into a harmonized choir, the three of them continued on with their journey.

  
*

The pleasant gurgling of a small creek entered their ears. After traveling for shy four hours, the climate had a change of attitude, it had wrestled the fog into thin highly-concentrated mana mists. Warm and hospitable in all sense of manner that reminded him of a spring meadow. 

Starlight frolicked around drawing polka-dots onto them, casting a kaleidoscope on the rich-colored forest. Their residents seemed more upbeat and prolific, and diverged in species.

Everything was graphic and brilliant. 

Norman inferred this's the 'noon section' of the plane, for not once since he's entered, that he caught a shadow leaning, or slouching even with the passing of time, as if each of them was stout to fortify itself from the direct onslaught of the star. Or that the majestic sun ever disked away from its altitude. These, all the more, coined his hypothesis that Reverse Side was a frozen planet, which on no occasion rotate or revolve, quiescent in time in perpetuity. Was this a byproduct of a phenomenon of relativity known as time dilation? Or was there another force at play?

Either way, to be perfectly honest, he'd not mind to live forever within this bizarre realm.

Norman spot dews coruscating on the blades. Millions of them, in fact. This's a sign they're nearing their destination. Great. Despite the regular rests they took, a workout of total six hours was pure torture, at least for Norman, if not for the urgency and his inquisitiveness that served as a great distraction for his fatigue, he'd have raised his white flag long ago. 

Also, people called perseverance is his best suit, so half of it was his ego talking. 

"Look, a marsh!" Emma pointed. Beyond the thinning walls of trees, and yonder the mire, jutted out a verdant hill's top. 

"How we're going across it?" 

Ray introduced a valid topic, the area was swamped, no road to circumvent it either. "Norman, can't you use your wires familiar that transported us to Ryuudou Temple?"

"No can do. That technique imparted lesser spirits, which act as a cushion for us to able to ride on the volatile _**Engel Rid** _【Multifunctional Mystic Code】. Do you think in this realm barren of human’s presence there'll be wraiths loitering around?" Or otherwise Norman would have proposed it no sooner than did the fog diminished on their way. 

"Then why not transmuting those logs into a 'basket'? There’s no need for a 'saddle' in that case." 

Norman shook his head. "Those trunks are technically alive. Nature spirits dwell in them. If I forcibly transmute them there'll be a degradation in the final product." 

"How about using mine?" Emma chirped. 

Snapping her fingers, a large silhouette materialized behind her. True to her words days ago, her familiar was a mammal with striking orange blotches coat.

Ray's eyebrows twitched. "A giraffe? Can it carry us off safely to the shore?" 

Norman, as well, couldn’t hide his doubts concerning its ability to cross the morass that might have unknown creatures lurking about.

Grinning a Cheshire cat's, Emma waved her index finger in mock humor. "Tsk. Tsk. Don't underestimate my Camelopardalis! Io and behold my pride buddy's true form!" 

Scarcely did the triumphant declaration left her mouth, an uncanny pressure descended upon them. By its master order, the quadruped dutifully converted its lengthy head and neck to that of a cobra with smoldering antlers and mane, its sleek body to that of a leopard, its serpentine haunches to that of a lion, and its robust feet to that of a hart. 

Absorbing all the mana in the vicinity, it swelled rapidly in size. 

Acidic venom dripped from its razor-sharp fangs, melting the plants and soil underneath. As it slurped the sweet miasma through its snout, and down its belly, a thunderous rumble, akin to a pack of hollering dogs, crashed the earth. 

When it shifted to position itself, a single sweep of its tail generated massive shock waves, strong enough to raze and lacerate nearby trunks. Its presence itself distorted the space.

What a hideous mutation. The spectating boys were petrified. 

It's a fortune this creature held no malice toward them. 

There’s feeling more prominent than fear. It's stupefaction. For horror and dread came after embracing one's situation.

As such, no one commented on this atrocious scene.

But...

"Oh dear, don't get too excited!" Shattering the heavy silence, Emma laughed as her familiar rubbed its crown to her cheeks. 

"Glatisant..." 

Regaining his bearings, Ray muttered under his breath. 

"Oh, you know, Ray?" 

He sighed. As far he's concern, her words sound nothing less than a provocation. "An illusory beast from Arthurian legend. It's famously depicted to be an abomination concocted out of wedlock between a princess, who lusted after her own sibling, and her brother. An incestuous offspring, so to speak. In any case, it's believed to be one variant of the mythological view on giraffe' ancestors, as Serpopard and Qilin as well."

"Yes, there's a record of it being slain by Knights of the Round. But, as you can see, Camelopardalis is peppy." Emma pet it lovingly. 

"Camelopardalis huh? Not bad, naming it after a constellation. Granted. Considering, it's coming from you." Ray snickered. 

Affronted, Emma blew a raspberry at him. 

"But can't you tell us sooner before Norman passes out from exhaustion?" Added him.

"Ray!"

"I'm sorry, Norman! It's not that I don’t notice. This kid may look docile now, but it has a pretty bad temper tantrum at occasions." Camelopardalis growled in objection, hurtling its tail about. "Geh! Don’t go sulking at me now!?"

What a gag. As Emma was doing her best currying favor of her familiar's good grace back–it's going on a small rampage–Ray, and Norman, realized how destructive it'd have been, had she summoned it in a careless fashion. Its rank was, without doubt, on the tier of a Phantasmal Beast. Who knows the scale of ruination it might've caused otherwise. Emma's slick operation, that contrived Tohsaka Rin, her mentor, to put a hatchet in her pursue to bring this familiar on a spotlight in one measly day of their Sorcery lesson, could be dubbed as nothing less than frightening.

  
*

  
The ride was in need of improvement. 

Norman had said as they arrived on the shore.

Ray, on the other hand, would beg to differ as he slapped Norman's cushioned words away, and judged the experience as plain terrible using a Morse code; he did as he rubbed his aching rear. Witnessing their exchange, Emma was, admittedly, being straddled between Scylla and Charybdis: to tip in spunky Camelopardalis or laugh it off with Norman, and after great deliberations, she opted with the latter.

"It's pretty." Norman looked at the incandescing lagoon, which was separated from its mother lake. He didn’t know how only one of its children had the prismatic luminance, it'd inadvertently magnetized him a whole, nevertheless.

"Whoa, what's this!? It's freaking creepy! Poisonous phosphoresce mud?! And it's spuming purple foams!?" Even Golden Pond hadn't disgruntled Ray like this, he grunted, face scrunching up. 

"Eh?"

They’re having opposite opinions. That’s all and well, but for Emma, she couldn’t help feeling the incongruity a bit jarring. As if, they’re having different visions.

Emma scooted closer and scooped out a handful of the liquid to scrutiny it further.

"Oi! Be careful! Don't recklessly touch–"

She licked the water.

"–!! What the heck!? You moron! Are you out of your mind?!" Ray's voice shrilled in disbelief.

"–!!? Spit it out, Emma!!!" Norman thought his heart had stopped for a second there.

"Hmm...It's savory. As I thought, this lagoon is– Ah, I'm glowing." Unapologetic in the least, Emma said as flippantly as one would talk about the weather.

"You... you...!" Ray howled incoherently. He felt dizzy. The girl had had almost nil self-preservation awareness, he's certainly no stranger to this disposition of her–being raised and nurtured within the same macabre house, ante mortem, for years–especially, when other’s welfare were appended to her causes–this. However, didn’t excuse her relapsing folly. Not in the least. 

"E-Emma!?"

Just as Ray wanted to siphon his two pennies worth, Emma was surrounded by blinding white light and...

"I'm being summon–"

She disappeared in a blink of an eye.

"!!!"

They’re late.

Their outstretched hand didn’t reach her. Norman could feel a paroxysm of angst crawling onto his ankles, a foreboding of the impuissance he anathematized, as if the universe couldn’t abide the thought of their bliss to be anything but temporary. He's sick of it. Utterly so. Why she’s so reckless? So defenseless? So gullible? Why this always happening to them?

Albeit, Norman was Norman, despite blanking in anger, he willed all his emotions away for a capacity of concrete logics...

Where's she?! What happened!? 'Summon' she said? Has she been taken somewhere? Did she understand her own situation?

Norman drew in a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled it at a leisure pace, an expression of pain flickering on his mien, for it's truthfully unbearable to be separated from her again, but he braved it. He gripped his knuckles. Hard. Then he gave a side-long glance to his companion who regarded him back with the equal intensity and determination. 

"She's alive." Norman whispered with clarity, half for Ray, half for reassuring himself.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Then, pray tell, why're you searching her with your jewel Magecraft, Ray?" Norman gibed, noting what his best friend was endeavoring to do.

"Pfft." 

They each slipped out a soft chuckle and a smirk.

At the end of days, both of them were believing in Emma's ferocity, if not to preempt themselves from crumbling into despair.

"She won’t die so easily. At the Seventh Wall as well, we're separated, yet she miraculously forged a Promise for us. We're going back, this time, for sure."

Ray was adamant to leave this World, a fact, Norman could never miss for his own peace of mind.

"Do you really want to go home there?"

Norman's edged timber gritted on Ray's focus, and for a brief moment, his spell jittered. The raven boy cocked a brow. "Don't you?" All in accusing tenor he spewed up unintended.

"You'd better off not." The flaxen boy closed his eyes. Ray, for his part, bit down his curse to Norman's glaring attempt at prevarication. "There’s no guarantee we can meet our family again. Won’t you close the curtain to our stage?"

Ray let out a huge gush. "So, you’re on Emma's side, big surprise. Let's verify this. Even hundreds or thousands years have passed, Emma's Magic will make it possible. It’s a part of the deal. Or perhaps, do you care to share the closure of our past story?" Which Ray noticed Norman had purposely hung in suspense for some whiles.

"You misunderstand big part, Ray. I, for one, don’t belong in Emma's camp, neutral as I ever be within your quarrel. This's just me giving you a friendly advice so as to not be played like a fiddle. Also, I'm not quite the right person for the job. Like your fuzzy memories, Emma only restores cluttered pieces of it when she awakened me."

＊＋＊

_"I lied."_

_The marigold-haired girl chortled. Effervescent._

_"I love you."_

_Hers was a nostalgic reminder of summer chimes._

_"Unlike you, Norman. I'm a cruel person. I'll engrave the most painful wound into your soul so you won’t ever forget. It'll suppurate, chafe your spirit to shards, until it left a hideous stigmata, and you'll suffer for eternity. Yes. Yes. I assure you..."_

_＊＋＊_

"Awaken?" 

Ray's inquiry sucked him back into reality.

"I'm a homunculus. Not a born human." Norman denoted as a matter of factly. A split second of lag. Ray tousled his hair, as if he'd been caught off guard, or maybe, a little bit nettled by his own insensitivity. 

"...How about you, Ray? Where's your father?" The snowy boy roused a new topic for his apologetic brother.

"I've none to speak of. I'm a Designer Baby." Ray divulged. "An artificially modified existence Magus procure as their heir. It's analogous to how demons' high-grade farms do their selective breeding: they specified particular phenotypic traits to develop and extracted them. They fertilized the nominated Sisters with donated prime seeds, then lastly, those scientists would tamper with our embryos' DNA."

Silence reigned.

Destiny had such a lousy comedic routine, for his consideration to result in another landmine, as though he's scratching on festering scabs, Norman could laugh at the irony of it all. 

_Prick._

He looked down at Ray's shattered gem, forgetting all his previous musings, anticipation welling up unbidden within his chest, tentative, for the Tohsaka's successor's report.

"...It's a buzz. How’s yours?"

His hope crumbled all too soon.

Trepidation cloying his heart, Norman swayed his head. "My familiar couldn’t detect her either." Both the GPS and tracking spell he put on her.

Ray's austere countenance wobbled with their grim prospect. He clicked his tongue in distress. 

Norman ignored him, he all but nerves as well, and honestly had no energy to spare to carter anybody's woes as he fell into another loop of cerebration.

Thirty minutes had elapsed since Emma's disappearance. Was she transported to a place so far away they couldn’t detect her even with sorceries? From where? What for? Should Norman increased the scope of his search? This realm was stranger than fiction, might she had fallen victim to its trap unbeknownst? 

No.  
  
Inauspicious thoughts aside, it wouldn’t do for them to shillyshally. Say what one might about prudence and wisdom, rising to the challenge was often the key to success. As he decided that, Norman swiveled to his partner.

"...Ray, you may turn a deaf ear at your convenience, I'm going to suggest something stupid after all." When he had his friend’s full attention, with his tutting noise, Norman continued. "Let's drink this suspicious fluid. If my memories haven’t failed me yet, Emma said she's summoned. Whether the other party is malefic or not, our first priority is to make a point of contact with Emma."

"They might ensnare us in the second we use it as a port." Swallowing his protest, Ray reasoned.

"Still. The odds aren’t entirely stacked against us."

A spark clashed within their gazes. The first to relent was the one who always at the mercy of the other's whims.

Really. 

It's a _quod erat demonstrandum._ No need for _fait accompli._ Because, simply, these older siblings were awfully worried for their little sister.

  
*

Norman blinked.

When he opened his eyes, he's standing alone on a dark, murky place. 

Ray and he had expected this–to be separated from each other if they'd run the risk to consume the dubious dose–that had quelled his anxiety. He looked around. Where's Emma? Was she here?

The moon, a complete orb, at its zenith, haloed everything beneath it in eldritch glow. 

It's humid. Terribly so. 

A fetid odor permeated the vicinity.

Bioluminescent fungi carpeted the moist floor; as such he could make out faint silhouettes of gnarled roots dipped into and out of the soil, the gossamers sticking on dangling offshoots, and multitude tributaries snaking their way within the fluvial landforms, where his Hercinia's plume didn’t amount to, off the distance. 

A sepulchral lull overhung. Every denizens were slumbering away in their nightmares, accompanied by the plaintive rhythms of the streamlets.

This must be the 'moonlit side' of the realm. Norman reckoned. It's eerie, to say the least, he felt his perception of time was completely toppled topsy-turvy.  
  
As he's swamped in this sense of incongruity, waves of zephyr rustled the leaves and branches of the sylvan glade, creating a whispery nocturne of phantoms. The forest then morphed itself into a cathedral, housing mystical hymns with enigmatic, bone-chilling arias. He shuddered. The stirring archaic vines were specters limbs prickling his alabaster skin, speckling red rashes by their sticky saps.

Norman gulped, at which point, Emma's voice of the wise, just a few hours ago, replayed itself in his head. 

_1\. If you're lost, ask not for the assistance of the imps. They'll prank you good for nights. That's dozens of years in human world._

_Was it perhaps a precept?_

_2\. Don't ever reveal your true name. You can use aliases, nonetheless, be careful, high-ranking fairies might discern your ruse._

_Or a presage?_

_3\. Don’t strike a deal without verifying their credibility. Fairy can't lie, they can hide the truths however._

At any rate. As he calmed down, he knew he can't just meander meaninglessly...

Creak.

A sudden tremor fomented the tranquil realm, it's the soft crunch of brittle twig yet echoing raucous as opposed. 

Then a sylph's breath, a hum of silken waft routed the throng of clouds; far from him–roughly around fifty paces across–stars' light poured and bathed a fictitious creature in platinum luster.

An intruder. No. It's the reverse. The host of this domain. Norman realized.

Its shape was of a horse made of pellucid water, that refracted light like a glass prism, scattering rainbow slivers all over. Its tail was sculpted like a fish's fin, lilac in color, polished with magenta glitters. 

[](https://ibb.co/BryNgvQ)

An _each-uisge_? How beautiful.

It's standing above the lake as though a blossoming lotus. 

_4\. If you encounter man-eater folks, don't falter. First, they have distinct characteristics. Mainly, the ravishing unearthly lookers and whose nauseatingly acute stench of blood-lusts leaking out unbidden. Make a misdirection, in search of help, you can even promise sweets to the tiny faerie, if you will, then run and hide._

Ah. Crap. He's entranced.

Before he knew it, he's dragged into the loch.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Further down. Sinking deep into the dreadful cauldron of frizzing stream, bottomless pit of the abyss. 

_It's cold._

_It's sobering. Is this his first real brush with death?_

_Emma is not here. Ray is not here. They couldn’t help him._

_'Am I dying?'_

A scarlet will-o-wisp flew from his grasp.

No. _No. **No**. _

_Scary._

_He's scared. Dark. Cold. It's maddening. He can’t die here._

He didn’t want to die. He wanted to laugh with Emma again! Emma and Ray, under the sun! Think! Think Norman! The water was flooding his windpipe. His consciousness was slipping. There're statics in his buzzing ears. 

As Einzbern homunculus, his Magecraft was designed for alchemy uses, in short, transmutation, and by extension healing sorceries, he couldn't empowered his feeble limbs to perform material arts or conjure high-offensive attacks, his option was greatly limited just by that fact alone. 

But, compared to the boy in a distant planet, where he’s a mere human against semi-immortal demon, this clear ascendency in strength was nothing.

The cogs in his brain raced with possibilities. 

_'It's all or nothing!'_

His hand reached onto his chest. He prepared himself as he activated his Crest, then with unprecedented determination, sliced his pulmonary vessels off, blood quickly streamed his bronchioles and alveolus. This's a better choice than letting water through his lungs. As a homunculus, no matter how fatal the wound, as long as his could perform healing spell, he wouldn’t die. On the contrary, the monster was aquatic personification, the moment their elemental extension had a way within his respiratory tract, he'd be as good as dead. 

His fingers plucked the magical threads, they encircled his own right arm. Then, he asked his avian familiar to drag him forcefully out the water surface.

"Ghff!" A severe pain barreled into his spine and entire upper half. He gritted his teeth to prevent opening his mouth. The kelpie was persistently gnawing on his foot, its jagged teeth raced to stroke his bone. With his leftover stamina, he channeled more magical energy to his familiar, the thread embedded deeper into his skin until it bleed, nonetheless, he endured it. 

Marionette. That's the name of thaumaturge he applied to himself. A dangerous stunt. A slight mistake, his organs might be torn to shred. But it's a sure violent method to move his paralyzed body out the water!

He was flung away into the air in gratifying arc, levitating for a scant few seconds, and finally rolled pathetically over the damp grass.

"Ha, ha, ha...." He spat, hurling blood after blood. The entire content of his stomach: bile, acid, lunch was bowled outside. Every intake of oxygen amplified the burning throbs, his entire body screamed. He suffered multiple fracture on the femur from the g-force, his leg's fleshes were torn, its muscles shredded, his right arm looked like minced ham. Red pool was forming on the ground. Yet, he's alive. Despite losing that much blood, he's sustaining his petty life. 

Thanking the adrenaline rush for numbing his agony, he slowly fixed his stance.

Athene Noctua, his familiar, hovered beside him–protecting its master from the obstinate kelpie, which eyed him with a tenacity of a seasoned hunter. As opposed to his owl metal, Noctua was a Noble Phantasm of Roma's famous goddess, the summit of its prosperity, Minerva's loyal partner. A relic from the age of Gods. A clockwork opus in glistering lapis lazuli and onyx lacquer, with a beak of gold, rubies for eyes and an amethyst embellishment to its temple. Einzbern clan, by dint of its colossal wealth and vast connections, retrieved its core plus blueprint in an ancient ruin and miraculously recreated its wonder from the scrambled parts. 

It prided itself having the complete deck of scouting functions: radar, echolocation, target tracking mode, illumination, wind profilers, weather precipitation calculators, synthetic-apertures antennas, geographical sonar processing, et cetera. 

Einzbern homunculi manufacturing was amazing to say the least. He's referring to his own construction in this context. Artificial spirit core of the irrecoverable, its saint graph was engraved in his soul. The extension of the planet, Norman von Einzbern, wouldn’t die so easily with these rampant Magical Energy surging about in the air; with rapid precision and flair, he cast a restoring spell to all his wounds and his body reconstructed itself to its intact state.

However, this authority also applied for the starving creature in front of him. Magical Energy supplied them endless fuels equitably. The predicament allowed no room to optimistic prospect of a stalemate, thus, Norman with lesser endurance was at a disadvantage. 

Thinking objectively, he had no direct might to go toe on toe with a Magical beast of this class. His alloy strings had done almost to none damages due to its inherent properties of a water: malleable, capillary action, adhesion.

Should he pit it against fire?

No.  
  
**An Average One** , a title bestowed to those who had an affinity for five great elements. He's the talented genius. Still, his aptitude to manipulate antithetical substance of his foe didn’t necessarily qualify him for offensive onset, if anything, his were more tailored for consumption, heat, or entropy manipulation. Simple fire would be sooner extinguished, in all honesty, he'd dare to say the enthalpy needed to vaporize this large amount of water around was unfeasible at the get go. 

No, even he supposed to create lots of flame with the abundant magical energy and enfeeble the critter temporarily, that could risk setting the whole forest ablaze, and rouse the other inhabitants' unsolicited odium. 

No, first of all, mulling or fighting, these were beneath consideration.

For now, he had to retreat from the open space of the battleground and took a refuge under the exuberant trees behind. His build and constitution afforded him no leeway to commit himself into a war of attrition. So...

Accompanied by his racing thought, his quivering legs, and his prominent fear he dashed off–

"Khh!" Swift projectiles had cut his path. Of them–the stray fluvial bullets splashed onto the bushes. 

Norman swiveled to his opponent. There, with its undivided vanity, it stood majestically on the moldy boulder. Blobs of water were floating above it as autonomous rifles. They're aimed at him, to hinder his advance or retreat in a diligent manner, whilst efficiently preserving its ammos. It's declaring itself taking a sweet time in the hunt. A brilliant strategy to only approach him when he's thoroughly exhausted.

Norman swallowed his saliva. He's facing an intellectual being, a lapse in judgment would be fatal. Another barrages were coming, quickly he sent his familiar to transmit the view of battlefield with shared perceptions. He dodged some globules and intercept the others with his metallic strings. It was a continuous torrent, almost overwhelming. Norman cut a giant tree and propelled it to the kelpie. It's not much, but it'd given him time to sprint to the nearest shrub.

Breathing heavily, he rested his back onto the scabrous trunk, while his fingers deftly set up a few traps to prevent the kelpie finding him soon. Somehow the stinging sensations from the gashes his opponent's attacks had grazed him and the prickling caress of the cold briars had anchored him to formulate cohesive calculations. 

Now that he had engaged the kelpie in a duel of death, and as his familiar was keeping it busy, he'd more or less analyzed and memorized its patterns of attack and abilities, including the numeration of the distances, accuracies plus intensities each of the varying blobs had. 

"The small ones, on the size of a pellet ball, their velocity is approximately 340 m/s or at supersonic level, disregarding active factors such as average value barometric pressure or humidity level they're barely parried-able. The medium ones with a diameter of golf balls are subsonic, while the big ones, slightly over the standard volleyball, are on par with medieval firearms' muzzle velocity. They’re fired with equivalent initial energy. In other word, as air resistance acts, things which have a bigger surface area and volume are affected in direct proportion, those globules are not an exception. Ha, ha..." The fact the law of physics still had correlations over here, albeit infinitesimal, gave him some sort of comfort.

He'd been relying on Noctua to navigate their movements from the sky, but once he entered the forest, the thick foliage would obsolete its footage. On the flip side, fighting kelpie in its territory beside the loch was suicidal. In other word, he had to finish it off inside the wood without Noctua's clairvoyance. 

"!!!" Just as he regained his bearings, a big canon water-ball struck the tree he'd been hiding behind. The impact craved a hole through its thick trunk. Thankfully, he'd dived sideways a fraction of a second before it landed. A narrow squeak. If Noctua didn’t warn him, he'd be a dead meat now! With its magnitude, a vivid image of his torso reduced to smashed watermelon flashed through his mind. The tumultuous feeling inside him intensified. 

Norman moved his unreliable legs, but just as he wanted to scamper to another location, a blur whizzed passed his side! The kelpie had disappeared from Noctua's view and manifested a second later before him, pounding toward him in a deadly speed. 

'Teleportation? It had such a niche ability!? From where?' His eyes scanned the terrain and found the source of it's portal point, '...The rivulet!' as he pulled his body backward using his silvery fibers. It's an emergency retreat he prepared knowing his poor agility. He'd put his wires all over the vicinity, and using the pulley system, the trees acted as an axle to lift his weight and direct him to his intended point. 

"Ghh!" But, as expected, it's guaranteed with a rough landing service. His back smacked against the thorny bushes. Nevertheless, he bit back his whimper to avoid breaking apart now. 

He'd gained considerable distance. A brief recess. So he healed the more prominent wounds on his body as he trimmed all the trees beside the rivulets. 

**_Bam. Bam. Bam._ **They collapsed systemically like stacked dominos.

'Now, let's see if that serves as a blockade to his teleportation portals, better yet, dwindling his ammunitions, now that it's separated from its water source. From what I've observed, it can only manipulate water connected to the loch, that's why it can't kill me directly with water that composes seventy percent of the human’s body.'

"Noctua, play with it some more!" Clutching at this flimsy hope, he ordered and drew back to the shades' protection. 

"Ag-gah!" A groan slipped out of him. His left thigh had been sliced. Just now... had the water spheres lashed at him like sinuous whips?

'Khh! What an infuriating monster!' 

It'd splendidly exceeded his expectations and quashed his acquired computation with its additional contingencies.

_If yoU eNcOunTer Man-EateR fOLkS, Don't fAlTer. FirsT, ThEy Have DIsTincT ChArActerIStICs. mAINLY, thE RavISHinG unEArTHly LOokErs And WHOse nauSeaTiNgLY AcuTe StENCH Of BloOD-LuSts leAKINg Out UnbiDdEN. pLEH fO HCraes nI EIReAf yniT EHT Ot STeeWS EsIMorP Neve nAc UoY ,noITceridsIm a EKAm IF YoU wiLl, tHeN RUN anD HIDE._

_'Sorry, running away is fool's errands, Emma! It won't let me escape so easily within its haunts!'_

Grumbling his dissatisfaction away to the individual that wasn’t even there, Norman sprinted with all his might when...

_'!!! That's...!'_

On his way, he caught something.

*

Just inhaling oxygen became a heavy labor, his vision spun. His fingertips were tingling. He's drenched in cold sweats. Was he hyperventilating? There're indeed symptoms. Not just that, he'd lost many blood. Even healing could only go as far. 

Essentially, healing craft was a facilitation to hasten hemostasis, inflammation, proliferation and maturation processes of one’s wounds. As such, the fatigue plus the recoil of bulldozing those long procedures all at once on one's cells was anything but trivial. It's not exaggeration to say this exertion was reducing his already short lifespan as a homunculus. 

His stamina was nearing its end. But if he lost consciousness now, it'd be an instant game over. 

The kelpie kept its onslaught for the past half an hour he hardly able to heal the most mortal injuries.

Another balls whirred across his left, with his last ounce of strength, he reeled backward.  
  
His formidable mental fortitude was the only thing that bolstered him from falling into despair, yet, it was slowly giving away for trepidation. There’s no longer a hint of composure and elegance found in his gestures. Is this the end?

The chase wouldn’t end until one of them was killed. An everlasting game of tag.

Seriously, what a predicament. He'd always been besieged by these invisible demons. They slithered their cadaverous fingers around the nape of his neck, gradually, yet steadily, asphyxiating him. 

Repeating and repeating this perpetual cycle of misery. Bit by bit, It's driving him mad....! !!!?

Without warning, a humongous globule was closing by in tremendous speed!

Oh. Crap. He couldn’t stay focus.

  
*

Inside the wood, despite the many obstacles and lumbers falling all over the place, the water-horse galloped with the lightness of cotton buds scurrying off abound in windy days. Perhaps, it's the wisdom of a predator, it knew its prey was nearing its limit. Even the pesky pest that had been hindering his advance had turned sluggish from water weighing down its glistening feathers. Oh joy, what joy, it could smell the relishing desperation of the human’s offspring!

It surveyed the area with rapt attention not missing minute changes.

Its tiny ears flapped rapidly. It's tracking down its meal with the fluctuation of mana in the atmosphere and had just received some delightful receptions. It rushed to the direction whence it came. A silhouette lurked from behind a giant bough, the distinct size was the exact replica of its prey.

 _Time to eat_ ～♪! With a fervent enthusiasm, it jumped forward without hesitation. 

But...

Crooning, It craned its neck, its manned fluttering; it tasted nothing of the sinewy fresh meat it's expecting but the unappetizing crunchy textures of plants instead. The shadow it saw was merely a makeshift doll made out leafs and trunks. How the heck a cornered prey could make such an intricate deception? It seemed to brood inwardly, at which point...

A magic circle activated from within the ground. In an instant, a barrier that restrained its occupier was erected.

"Oh, I asked the tiny fellows to help prepare the trap in exchange of treats." A dulcet voice, laced with a venomous cheer, echoed as though to elucidate its confusion. 

Let's rewind time, shall we? Yes. Exactly fifteen minutes ago. 

＊＋＊

_Norman's thoughts were accelerating frantically as he discovered another prowess of his foe._

_Even Emma's advice became a heavy burden to his effect:_

_If yoU eNcOunTer Man-EateR fOLkS, Don't fAlTer. FirsT, ThEy Have DIsTincT ChArActerIStICs. mAINLY, thE RavISHinG unEArTHly LOokErs And WHOse nauSeaTiNgLY AcuTe StENCH Of BloOD-LuSts leAKINg Out UnbiDdEN. pLEH fO HCraes nI EIReAf yniT EHT Ot STeeWS EsIMorP Neve nAc UoY ,noITceridsIm a EKAm IF YoU wiLl, tHeN RUN anD HIDE._

_'Sorry, running away is fool's errands, Emma! It won't let me escape so easily within its haunts!'_

_Grumbling his dissatisfaction away to the individual that wasn’t even there, Norman sprinted with all his might when..._

_'!!! That's...!'_

_On his way, he caught something, no, not quite something–they’re tiny Hyter sprites. Benevolent Fae folk. And the jumbled sentence in his mind descrambled itself:_

_Make a misdirection, in search of help, you can even promise sweets to the tiny faerie, if you will, then run and hide. Here, some confectioneries to your tokens!_

_Right. That mellifluous voice had always been, and ever be, a beacon of hope. Thanks to her, he'd been saved again._

_Hitherto he'd been buying time for his tiny assistants to finish preparing the trap._

＊＋＊

Norman snapped his fingers. It's the signal that commenced the triumphal resurgence.

_**Crackle** _

A strong lightning spear gushed out of thin air, it electrolyzed all the water of the aquatic stallion, condensing and making it fizz, in a reminiscence of carbonated beverages. The critter screeched and gathered his remaining water globules projectiles into his body to fight the unknown force. 

"That's a bad move." The platinum boy's lips curled upward. It's diabolically exquisite under the moonlight, alien, nigh ethereal. With his translucent white skin and intricate ambience, the role of the specter seemed to be reversed between the mythical creature and the fairytale-esque homunculus. The hunter and the hunted. "You know, you’ve been bleeding me a lot that I can hardly keep it up with my healing. A repayment. Indeed, that word sounds pleasing, no～♪?"

The kelpie was at its wit's end. Its own elemental body was acting weird, unruly. An unprecedented terror seized its instinct.   
  
"Hm Mhm. I secretly administered some of my blood into your precious blobs as they scratched me, ad nauseam." 

So what actually the young master of Einzbern lineage had been doing? It’s a simple alchemy. Mage's body parts were the best catalysts for conducting a grand ritual. 

His blood. He transmuted it into pseudo two metal rods which acted as anode and cathode respectively, simultaneously adding strong alkaline and acid to its properties. The barrier he set up was devised accordingly to be two inverted burettes.

"Electrolysis. A decomposition, a cheap method, of separating elements by pushing an electric current through a compound."

It's conceptually and practically doable, even elementary students could carry out this experiment at home, albeit at a smaller scale with less than ideal faradaic efficiency. At the base, thermodynamic voltage required to split water is 1.23 volts, or translated into these equations:

(Eocell = Eocathode − Eoanode) is −1.23 V at 25 °C at pH 0 ([H+] = 1.0 M)

However, in practice, activation energy, wire resistance, surface hindrance including bubble formation, ion mobility and concentration, and entropy numerical calculations, each of those underlining aspects required meticulous corrections at work, especially, to decompose pure water such as the lake kelpie. But, these hurdles were child play to Norman's precise sorcery. Not chemistry. His had surmounted the kinds of scientific law.

The water-horse had undergone a process similar to nuclear transmutation, where the number of protons or neutrons in its nucleus was resonated accordingly, deconstructing its covalent bonds, thus, resulting in a balanced overall reaction of: 2 H2O(l) → 2 H2(g) + O2(g)

At moment, the kelpie resembled nothing so much as a combination of slime-vapor apparition.

But.

Even it's reduced to mere aerosol, the soul presiding in its core was still very much alive. It's accumulating the mana in the atmosphere to fix its form back. Fueled by the fury of being disgraced into such an unsightly exterior, inconceivable heats were being concentrated into one area. Unfortunately, this stormy exploit was akin to hitting the final nail in its own coffin. Here's why; 

At present, hydrogens produced by electrolysis were running amok in the air. It's a most combustible molecule. Incidentally, whenever heat, or in this case, Magical Energy, was added to any substances, the atoms vibrated faster, and as they collided, an uncontrolled self-sustaining chain reaction occurred, thus–

"Checkmate."

_**BOOM!!!** _

An intense light tore the darkness apart. 

A miniature sun, a deafening roar rattled the sturdy barrier.

A blast consuming, incinerating the ground, vegetation and soil. 

It spanned for a virtually everlasting second. 

Norman shielded his eyes as he awaited the explosion to simmer down.

As the dusts settled and the embers snuffed out, he stared impassively at the charred area in front of him. Just like that, he’d won the battle without even delivering the final blow.

At last, the night regained its symbolic tranquility. 

*

"Guh." 

Norman's knees gave out. Losing his tension, he desperately clutched his begrimed shirt in an attempt to straighten his thinning breath. The brunt of his strain was coming with manifold the vengeance.

He's feverish. His joints were cramping. His bones were squeaking. Convulsion. Anemia. Vertigo. Asthenia. His cursory medical checkup was showing up multiple more complications than the aforementioned ones. His body was deteriorating fast with every rash modifications he'd done. It's nothing short of a miracle he could hold out until this long.

"Backlash, huh–or specifically, hoisted by my own petard, perhaps?" He knew he should’ve taken care of his health more. Well. For all intents and purposes, he did try, alas, the circumstances had led him otherwise. 

What a quandary.

Could he look for Emma in this condition? Worse still, in his weakened state, could he defend himself if there’s another threat? The answer was obvious.

Noctua glided above him, circling the vicinity before perching itself on top his shoulder. 

"Good girl." Norman stroke its belly as it preened, noting how it's wet and heavy. Right, he ought to dry himself as well to avoid catching pneumonia. 

"...Noctua?"

Out of the blue, his partner hooted, informing him of an approaching presence.

Norman readied himself for the imminent confrontation, but....

"...Norman!"

"Ray!?" 

Seeing the raven boy, Norman's suspense unbridled itself for a huge relief. "Why..." are you here? He shut his mouth before the word tumble out. Right. That explosion must’ve been a giant pharos. Perceiving his gaffe, Norman altered his enquiry. "Did you find a clue?" 

"Not quite. Before that, are you okay?" His brows creased with worry.

Norman reluctantly told him an abridgement of his adventure, and Ray's expression soured with it. "Let's rest for a bit. No buts." Dictating so, Ray forced a turquoise stone onto Norman's palm.

"This..."

"Healing Crystal. Tohsaka's sorcery trait is anywhere but satisfactory for healing, however, by taking advantages of certain quartzes' properties, we can boost their intrinsic abilities in promoting and sterilizing the flow of energy inside a living being. In a nutshell, this's an isotonic drink for dehydration prodome." 

"Thanks, Ray. I'll take the offer then. By the way, about your clue..."

"Right...."

  
*

  
After reposing for a while, Norman regained a tad of his initial strength. The boys thus proceeded to the location Tohsaka's heir had been transported into. 

It's a coniferous woodland, composed of firs, pines, cedars, larches, cypresses and oaks varieties. Their barks were skyscraping and extensive, branching ominously like tarantula's legs. 

What greeted Norman was a mid-winter panorama. The sky was a vast dome, yonder the horizon, stretching into infinity, cloudless and velvety; the purest black dotted with celestial stars. For here stood no fences or buildings made by human hands–no banal electricity, or of their kinds, to obstruct the magnificent coruscations of any galaxies. Truly, a pristine land. 

Thin mists streamed, billowing, as though the fabled goddess's translucent shawl was dancing away an illicit performance. 

Virgin snow blanketed the earth, and by which its soporific peace, the faunas were hibernating in their burrows. The air tasted sweet, incredibly so, analogous to luscious honey or maple syrup. 

But the most striking thing was the highly concentrated mana in this place, more than anywhere Norman had stumbled upon, in fact. The Magic was so dense, it might as well be a vacuum. Just a single breath would sunder any common man of the era. On the contrary, his homunculus body was absorbing all the extensive esoterica, and it's no exaggeration to say he'd recuperated fully to his prime. "Ray..."

The boy nodded. "We're probably close to the Portal."

Just as he said that, a tremor agitated the somnolent realm.

"What!?"

It's akin to a blaring horn, rude, obnoxious one; and as if siphoning off their frustration for being awakened abruptly, the trees showered their acorns onto them in lex talionis. But it's the least of their worries as the quake getting stronger and stronger and stronger, until...

A boar manifested itself before them. No–not quite a wild pig. A frenzied Demonic Beast on the size of a small house.

It charged straight toward their direction at tremendous speed, razing every tree on its path. 

*

_**Whack!!!** _

"!!!?"

The astronomical impact happened before they could make a head or a tail of their situation. The sequences would be as comical as a panel of a humor manga, if not for the fact it's their real fleshes that were flung in thrilling arcuate. 

A few seconds of confusion was fatal.

"Gah!?"

Ray lamented his indecision as indescribable pain assaulted his entire body. Stars flashed on his vision. Tangy taste of iron spread into his mouth. Did he puke? Regardless of, his internal organs were a mess, for sure. The collision must've barreled his ribs, splintering them apart, and in return punctured his lungs. His heart might’ve ceased beating, if not for his Magic Crest reviving it automatically.

But. It hurt so much he'd rather die. 

A groan escaped him.

His lethargic body felt heavy and cold; in comparison, the snow beneath him emitted incredible warmth, a cozy enshrouding, he felt he could fall asleep in moments notice as if lying in luxurious mattress. _Yeah, that’s sound amazing._

_Oh...Wait, did he perhaps forgetting something? Washing his teeth? Something. Changing into his pajama? Something important. Bidding a goodnight? To who? Uh, right..._

_...Norman?_

As the name crossed his mind, he raised his throbbing head and looked around in panic. 

"Nor.." On the corner if his vision, he could make out a blurry silhouette. It's a white canvas that was splashed with crimson. No–That's not it. It's a beautiful, lifeless, mannequin, with a bouquet to its abdomen, enshrined in its picturesque chapel, and that very holiness was about to get trampled by a gargantuan entity. He didn’t know why, but the rampaging boar ostensibly took an interest toward the insect it just rammed into. His breath hitched.

Ray's right fingers moved forward, but it's not his intention; for unmistakably, he'd wanted to stand up, to protect the other boy, yet the termination of his action was a piquant, gratuitous thing. Why?

He glanced at his limbs, to find the four of them mangled in helix like objects of arts. 

"Uh ahhh agh ahhhhh!"

His wails were doused with anguish and fear. The agony was unbearable. Seeing was indubitably a bad choice. Human’s brain had this strange functionality, in which if one didn't acknowledge 'a concept' as actual, the psychological devastation would be lesser than as opposed. Yet, even so, he couldn’t, for any ramification or such, to stop him from availing himself to save his little brother.

"Norman, hang in... there..."

He gritted his back teeth, while coughing blood occasionally. Bit by bit, he crawled using his most intact arm. Despite the insufferable pain, he focused solely on this task.

As he channeled Od into his retinas, his vision flickered, getting less opaque.

"..?!"

Now that he could scrutiny further, and as all his concentration was directed into the other, he realized the homunculus hadn’t lost consciousness because of a concussion, or maybe, he did, it's second on his concern, nonetheless. Because, Ray had registered the hitherto glistening thing on his stomach wasn't blooming flowers, they’re entrails. A sharp branch, or something else, must’ve ruptured his midriff in the accident. Was Norman dead? Was Ray too late? No, he banished those pessimistic postulations. While Norman couldn’t cast healing spells as he'd fainted, this magical space should've helped preserve the extension of the planet's vessel. A pseudo comatose in a sterile environment, so to speak. With luck, someone else could just revive him later.

So, at the very least, Ray had to avert the beast's attention from Norman.

Hence. With all his might, he launched his most powerful gem–which stored the accumulation of his magical energy for nigh a decade–to the Demonic boar. It had the firepower to even wreck a tungsten tank to shreds.

An eruption of light. 

A boulder of ice blossomed out of thin air. 

A flash-freezing of −200 °C. It's akin to cryogenic liquid nitrogen, or being caressed by Neptune's troposphere. 

However.

The monster was unscathed. Without batting its eye, it'd negated his lethal attack annul. It's not even worth an itch. 

Damn it. Such strong magic resistance....

This Phantasmal Beast holds greater Mystery than Tohsaka's Magecraft!

Modern Magecraft was the sum of five hundred years of study, whereas this Phantasmal Species dated back to the medieval era. 

A millennium gulf. 

The older they’re, the more Magic supremacy they're predisposed. 

In other words, whatever Tohsaka Ray did, it wouldn’t do a thing against this absurd monstrosity. 

As the realization dawned on him. His spirit was plunged into despair. 

Ray bit his lower lip. Tears streaming down his cheeks. Again, again, and again. He's hapless to do anything. 

The reaper's scythe was swinging down to Norman's neck. The Demonic boar lifted his front leg. 

The moment stretched into infinity.

In that infinitesimal second, a blur passed before him.

A thrust like lightning.

_Clang._

A beautiful sound. 

It's the crude noise of steel hitting a hard surface; nevertheless, it'd reverberated rhapsodic in his ears.

The personage arriving in front of him was the ever dazzling sun of his world. He'd pleaded for whatsoever providences up there, and just like that, the girl had come to answer his prayer. 

An embodiment of the brightest star.

The wind blew. Her moonlit contour was unblemished; combined with the cascading of golden illumination around herself, she appeared sacrosanct–He swore he'd seen this luminescence before. What’s it again? 

"That's Hercinia. A night-banisher which paves a path for traveler through the murkiest shadow since the olden days in Germany."

I see. It's such a niche attribute. He should’ve...Oops– his consciousness was slipping.

"Ray!!"

Her voice was laced with utmost dread. No–that won't do. He pointed to the other direction. "Nor...man..... first..."

It's barely above a whisper, however, the girl awarded him with determined, understanding gaze, and rushed to Norman's side. 

Feeling relief washed over him, a gentle darkness enveloped him whole.

* * *

  
" _ġehǣl!"_

It's a high-level healing thaumaturge, not even the arch-magus of modern era could replicate the miracle she wrought. A woven tapestry. A craftsmanship unlike the others. Hers was seamless, velvety, as soft as freshly washed sheets. 

For seed budded into sprout, and thus from its stem leaves grew, whereby flowers effloresced themselves so as to yield fruits. A natural flow. This wasn’t healing as much as it's reinvigoration. 

When she's exposed to the prospect of delving deeper into the Mystic, this's something Emma had insisted to learn above all. There’s a lot of lives she could've saved otherwise if she had these artistries in her past life. Jake. Yuugo. Lucas. Peter Ratri. Mama. And many others. As such, her proclivity aside, her mastery was heavily inclined to one field. It’s not her lingering attachment speaking–just unremitting obstinacy. Thereby, the girl named Emma, delicate as she was, could finish that Demonic boar in a single swoop.

"Phew. That should do it..."

Not a second after her surgical operation ended, her patient let out a grunt.

"Norman!"

His eyes fluttered open, and–

"Emma! Are you okay?! Any injury!?" Before she knew it she’s being engulfed in a tight hug. The tiny boy was trembling. Sensing that, Emma returned his embrace with double the affection.

"I'm okay. Norman, you’re the one who looks worse to wear, though. That aside–" She allowed herself a brief smile before her tone indurated at the tail of her inflection. "Help me patch Ray!"

Hearing her plea, Norman regarded the grotesque lump of meat, which's sprawled on the ground, in her line of sight. Discerning its true identity, the color drained from his already pasty cheeks. 

"Don't worry. His Magic Crest is repairing his vital organs, albeit slowly." Emma said knowingly. Unfortunately or fortunately, even if they left him alone to his own device, he could hold off for another two hours or so. The durability of a Mage wasn't something to be taken lightly off. 

*

"...Ray."

"...E...m..ma? .....Emma!" The raven boy gripped onto her wrist firmly, surprising her. "Are you okay?!! What about that boar?! Where’ve you been?! You dolt! Do you know how worried we’re!!"

Barreled by his inquiries, Emma molded a semblance of what amounted to guilty simper. "Calm down, Ray. Behold yourself, I'm fit as a fiddle! As about the Demonic boar, I sent it flying few yards away. There!" Showing the wreckage she'd caused, Emma beamed innocuously. "Thirdly, in the period we're apart, I've been summoned by Oberon and Titania to their abode."

"Titania...Oberon...? Monarchs of the Fae?"

"Well. They indeed adjudicate both the Seelie and Unseelie courts; although, for your information, the terms 'Queen and King' were something bestowed upon them by humanity regardless of their wills. You ought to refrain from using it carelessly here. On that note, they’ve been magnanimous enough to condone our transgressions and divulge me about the location of the 'Portal'."

"Is that why you’re here?" asked Norman, sternly, his anger seeping out. The episode where she’d recklessly dived into uncharted danger was still fresh over his ledger. 

"Is that why we’re here. That rainbow-like pond exudes magical energy I've known, so I judged it's a safe kind of a bet..." Contrary to Ray's outburst, Norman's rebuke was more sinisterly phlegmatic, glacial, as if hell had frozen over. Hence, Emma carefully chose her vocabularies. "...Moreover, it's not as though you can't contact me, you know. Remember, I've given you the Hercinia's plumes, right? If you had used it as a catalyst with your sorcery, we can meet each other readily. After all, thanks to the resonance of our Hercinia's plume, I could arrive on time to rescue you guys from that wild beast." 

Now that she mentioned it, Norman realized he'd lost his–perhaps when he's dragged into the loch. What a blunder. Their panic had given them some sorts of tunnel vision. 

Sensing his turbulence, Emma chirped. "Anyway. Let's us Chop. Chop. get to the Portal an–"

A colossal pressure suddenly descended upon the area.

A blood-curling killing intent which enshrouded the whole forest.

The enormous presence adumbrated the moon and its brilliance. 

Dumbstruck, the three children bore witness of the manifestation of mythical phantasmagoria. 

What was that? A mountain? No. It's just so huge, it became an optical illusion. To be precise, it's on a scale of full-fledged battle ship, imperious yet ignoble. A vice calamity.

Crisp winds began to pick up, as thick miasma eddied, coiling around them. Nearby, they could also hear the weeping of bark over the trees in the vicinity.

  
**"WHO DArES To toUcH mY lOvElY ChiLD?"**

  
A voice echoed directly into their brain, a stentorian, taut and guttural voice, which penetrated deep, deeper, to the depths of their beings, as though violating their minds. 

Ray shuddered. Norman turned blue. Emma abandoned all thoughts of escaping, and–

"Camelopardalis!" 

Her familiar materialized at her call. "Hop on!" Emma urged.

The two boys were forcefully hoisted up to its back. However, Emma herself didn’t mount her very own steed. "Emma?!"

"I'll distract its attention, meanwhile, go as far as you can away from its view!"

"There’s no way we'll ever leave you!!!" Norman shouted. Ray concurred wholeheartedly at this statement.

Still, Emma shook her head. Adopting an authoritative demeanor, she ordered. "Go!" 

The boys flapped their mouths as if to protest vehemently, but stopped themselves in time as to not smear mire over her noble resolution.

Alas, both of them knew Emma's kindness in not saying anything superfluous: 

They’re but hindrances, encumbrances; dead weights. 

Seeing it was enough, there's no need of explanation, the Demonic beast was on a different level from its offspring, it'd ascended from being a Phantasmal Beast to Divine entity. As such, if its acclaimed child had quashed them into wrecks–not to mention how it'd such a high magic resistance to repel Ray's Magecraft, what could they possibly do against this lusus naturae? 

They stood no chance. The worst matchup.

"Go." Emma beseeched, this time with more subdued tonality. She handed them a leather purse. "I promise I'll be alright. We'll go home together, 'kay?" 

_'Promise'._

Coming from Emma, that word worth more than thousands of Geis or any official oaths. 

"Then take my Noctua. It'll help you for sure." Norman insisted.

"As my jewels will do." Ray offered.

"Thank you." Saying so, Emma pet Camelopardalis, and displaying its servitude, it scampered off with the utmost urgency.

  
  
*

Emma zipped through the wood with her reinforced limbs, bearing south, as opposed to her familiar. 

Her Circuit flared and throbbed. Whilst she appreciated her brothers' concerns, enjoying the very warmth spreading on her chest, she could not afford to lose another important person. 

How hypocritical. She smiled sardonically. Simply put, it's no valor of such, this's her ego talking.

But, she could just apologize later, this's no juncture for her trains of thoughts to derail off. It's game over once the Demonic boar detected her brothers' location, they had no way of protecting themselves. 

Taking a deep breath, Emma attuned herself to her surrounding. Chrysoberyl orbs twinkled with dim magical light. This's an espionage technique she'd learned from her father, a limited kind of clairvoyance.

Within her retinas, a picture–a three-dimensional grids layout was gradually forming, supplied by the senses of the forest's sprites and fairies. 

A rustle, a beat, the flutters of wings, the soft padding of a small fox nearby, the crisp snap of dry twigs as a troupe of shambling squirrels capering about into their dreys, to the tinkles of falling snowflakes. All vocalizing, the cryptic, arcane languages of the nature itself, which was undetectable by mortals' perceptions was being transmitted into her.

' _Found it!'_

Crossing a path of thousands of meters in an instant, Emma raced to the vintage point she spotted.

Hurry. Hurry.

"▂▃▄▄▅▅▂▄▃▅▄"

Like a tolling of dismal bell, the Demonic Boar suddenly let out a scabrous growl. And it was followed suit by the raucous cawing of crows.

A shiver travelled down her spines at the prospect of not making it on time, or worse, falling to do her part as a bait. The image of Norman's and Ray's battered forms was still raw on her mind, wrenching her soul.

She winced as something in her very being seemed to burst forth, but she ignored it. Instead, her tiny hands balled into fists. She reached out to her dimensional pocket, pulling out a pair of ebony bow and arrow.

Their designs were lean and compact. No superfluous decorations. Yet, deadly alluring. Resembling nothing so much as a rose's thorny stalk. 

Caladbolg 【The Spiral Rainbow Sword】

It's the magic sword of Fergus mac Róich in Celtic Mythology. 

Or so how it should be. 

What rested on her hands was the modified version projected by her father, Emiya Shirou. A fake, so to speak.

Gradation Air《Tracing》 

That's what the key to its acquisition. A sorcery that crystallized one's imaginary substances into the real world. Emiya Shirou's unique elemental affinity allowed him to reprint any weapons, or relics, lost in the annals of history down to their miniscule details, including the memories they comprised, which dictated their chronicles plus abilities of their authentic users. Oftentimes, he even improved their functions to suit his fighting style. 

This bow combination was one of its instances. Rather than a sword, an arrow, not just that, but as an A-rank Broken Phantasm. Because a deteriorated imitation would never match the original model's output, it's to be utilized as a disposable Noble Phantasm to compensate its inferior stats. 

Just once. And it'd disappear.

This's not a case of casting pearls before swine or wasting one’s trump cards, however. By principle, the World's mechanism would keep perpetually erasing 'inconsistency' which didn’t belong to natural phenomenon, as such, these counterfeit objects were not meant to last than a moment in the real world. 

Then, how could such aberrant tools exist beyond its predestined lifespan? From the stage of their creation, approximately fifteen months ago, how they could cheat eradication?

The answer to these was the manufactured article strapped to her waist: Dimensional pocket. By storing any transient items in her dimensional pocket–an isolated room, which had a spatial distortion inside of it concocted via her own Magic and Imaginary Number element, the concept of scientific law was mooted. Only when she retrieved something, thus it's destined again to abide the universe's governing principles.  
  
Thus. 

Battling against two kinds of time crunch, she launched herself to the conifer's highest and the most stabilized branch. she readied her stance, pulling the string of her bow to its upper limit. Her arm's muscles naturally frayed from its weight. She endured, nonetheless.

Tendrils of polychromatic light suffused off of her form in sand-like waves. She channeled Od as much as possible into the projectile while being stealthy.

The distance stretched for hundreds of meters, but her aim was steady. 

3\. 2. 1! Charging complete.

"Fly Caladbolg."

She nocked the profusion of kaleidoscopic sparks straight to her opponent.

_Swish!_

The helix blade penetrated the darkness in reminiscent of a shooting star. It could skewer any of its targets by creating a twisting distortion in space.

All sound vanished. A dazzling incandescence devoured the night. The very world seemed to burn. When the inferno came crashing down in a wall of revolving flames, the surrounding trees were reduced to cinders. They smoldered the very earth and every snow in the premises, thawing them into an avalanche of searing surfs. 

As the wafts of residual heat fully engulfed and carbonized all, only one thought surfaced in Emma's mind.

What a monster.

Her arrow had hit it square in its rear. But it's as effective as piercing a piping nail into a person's buttocks.

  
  
"▂▄▃▂▃▄▄▅▅▅▄▅██▅▅▄█▓▒░!!!"

The Demonic boar yowled in pain and stomped hard to the ground. Its sheer force produced an earthquake, sending shockwaves as raging tempest all over.

These sequences happened in less than a fraction of second.

"Guh!"

Having no time to fortify herself, Emma was literally naked to its violence. 

Instinct blaring, she kicked the biggest tree in the vicinity perpendicularly forward. It’s to reduce the air resistance, or to be precise, breaking the initial impact of the gale before it flog her. 

"Khh!"

Her shield was easily shattered into smithereens. Its splinters flew all around, grazing her. Nevertheless, she wouldn’t stop for such trivial matter.

**"Son of bitches! Come out you insect!"**

Stomp.

Stomp.

Stomp.

It raved.

In radius one hundred meters, all the conifers jumped in frenzied waltz. Riding on her foe provocation and using them as ladders, she crisscrossed forward, higher and higher, as her fodders plopped like stacked hays. 

In her hand was a shining halberd. An artifact wielded by Centaur. Labrys. Or another replica of it.  
  
Reaching the apex of her flight, she somersaulted to bridge the leftover distance. Her airborne, twirling silhouette eclipsed the moon. Taking a big swing, she lobbed herself downward using prana burst at full throttle–A technique of imbuing one's weapons and body with raw Magical Energy and instantly expelling it like jet propulsion. It'd contributed in no small part of enabling her slender build to brandish massive armaments thrice her size. 

**"Oh-hoi～♪! Found you, fucker!"**

Eh. 

The Demonic boar raised its head with a bolt of blue. If its face was remotely human’s then it'd have contorted by a hideous, predatory grin. It huffed, all contemptuous. And all exultant as from its snout, malodorous steam belched out at full stroke tantamount to an aircraft turbofan. A thrust of total 600,000 N and five hundreds degrees of heat flurried toward her!

She swiftly defended herself using her halberd. The heat travelled from the metal hilt and scalded her palms. The buffeting winds toppled her daredevil-no-parachute-skydiving's course. Having nothing to grapple on, she tailspun in mid-air, round and round, directly toward one of her enemy’s gargantuan tusk. 

Fifty three meters above the ground before the impact. Her option was exceedingly limited. Either die trying or die giving up. There’s no time for deliberations! Ignoring the feverish dizziness from the backlash of the G-force, she confronted her impending death head on.

"Bring it on!!!"  
  
In a trice, she shifted her angle of falling trajectory so it's her arm that's got caught instead. Her halberd was flung away, but she's saved by a close shave. 

An unbearable pain soon shot through her spine. Her shrilling scream filled the air. Her arm had been skewered thoroughly. Her side torso was shredded into meat-cheese substances with all the peeled skins and exposed ribs, not saying about her sacrificed arm–torn blood vessels and muscles were jutting out from all her gashes, slimy and gooey, resembling pomegranate's flesh. She dangled limply on the tip of the boar's tusk like a marionette that had been cut from its string.

"▂▄▃▂▃▄▒～♪♬♮"

The behemoth cachinnated, a profane, cacophonous clangor.

**"Taste the despair of daring to launch a sneak attack on me, you rat! This yours truly, Twrch Trwyth will give you the cruelest death ever experienced by mankind, I'll tear each of your limbs, gouge your eyeballs, cut your tongue, ears, breasts into pieces, and I'll violate you until you beg mercy. But, too bad for you I won't stop! You'll suffer for a long, long time until I get bored. Bear in mind, you worthless plebeian!"**

In ancient Briton, Twrch Trwyth was a notorious figure. 

The vilest, vulgar cataclysm. 

Once, wearing the skin of a man, yet a devil incarnate in essence, he pillaged and devoured as he pleased.

Killing the weak, enacting cruel tragedies, marauding, ransacking, gloating and having his way with everything. 

He relished himself by robbing his victims of their wealth and bliss. It's the king's prerogative, he'd proclaimed.

Karma thus hit him in the natural course of things, and he's transformed into an enchanted wild boar. 

Alas, as if the divine punishment had been just a minor discomfort for him, it'd not relented his heinous crusade in the least. Together with his seven piglets, it devastated the whole British Isle. 

As such, incensed, King Arthur, who sought to freed the people from his plaguing hedonism and to retrieve the boar's giant scissors, razor, and comb, accosted and braved him for his recidivism. Twrch Trwyth was at last defeated and exiled from the realm. It'd never shown itself since then, or at least, up to now. 

So, she’s up against that very catastrophe, huh? 

Moreover, it seemed to have accumulated more Mystery and levitated itself into a deity while in seclusion.

"If.." 

An inaudible murmur.

**"Hah? Can't fucking hear you～♪ Has your spirit broken from this much? Tch. What a let down."**

_**"I said If you want my limb so much, go ahead and eat it!!!!!**_ " Emma let out a herculean cry and tore her very own maimed arm, reinforced it with Od and whirled it to the Demonic boar's most vulnerable part. _Its eye!_

"▂▄▃▂▃▄▄▅▅▄▅█▅▄▅▄▅██▓▒░!!!"

Caterwauling like a newborn baby, it wrought havoc all around.

Emma flipped backward in cue and landed wobbly thirty-or-so meters away. She cursed inwardly. It's still alive contrary to her devious expectation. After all, she had infused electric charge worth a billion volt to her arm-projectile, it should’ve rattled her enemy’s brain for good, better still, frying it into ash. However, the boar must’ve severed its eyeball's neural circuits in its brain at the last second, cutting her electricity short and consequently rendering her attack impotent. Or...was its magic resistance simply unmeasurable?

Emma wheezed, losing her balance as she clutched her absent shoulder blade. Blood was cascading down her open wounds. Her diaphragm was convulsing haphazardly, and without the ability to breathe properly, all her strength were quickly being sapped from her limbs.

At the same time, the Demonic boar's hostility was spiking up into unprecedented level.

Emma flinched. She had faced numerous adversaries in her life, as such this wasn't the first time she felt such oppression. 

A pressure that suffocated.

An invisible weight that signified death.

Then again, this foe of hers was clearly in the upper leagues of myriad intersecting criteria out there. At the very least, a dozen or so of standard Heroic Spirits were needed to subjugate it by her estimation. 

In hindsight, her strength alone was clearly insufficient. Yes. She’s completely aware of her dearth of might. 

So, convoying a self-destructive stratagem would be the easiest choice, wouldn’t it? Fighting like a berserker with no regards for her own well-being as long as she fulfilled her role as a bait, right? Indeed. What a tempting notion. With her body in shambles, these thoughts crossed her mind. After all, she herself wasn’t afraid of death.

Just.

Just... 

The warmth in her chest was telling her...

Separation was a poignant thing. 

[](https://ibb.co/JR5BF5k)

* * *

Elsewhere, Tohsaka Ray was brawling his own inner urges to turn back his steed to the battlefield. 

The battering wind was cold, biting as it seemed to pierce through his skin and down to the marrow of his bones. He clutched tightly the magical rein tethered to Camelopardalis's neck–which served to repress its aggressive nature, thus providing an easy access for the rider to control it. Emma said using such item would usually sour its mood further in the aftermath, but the gravity of the situation ostensibly had a way to its obedience–He spurred the pseudo giraffe into a heated gallop. 

Chills was traveling down his back and he had goosebumps all over. The escalating tremors, plus the explosions of magical energy were ebbing and flowing like tidal waves behind them. If he's not careful, they could be swept ashore to the Netherland. 

Faster.

They had to get away faster.

The crunchy acorns were trampled beneath helter-skelter hooves and rushed movements in full tilt. As soon as they were outside the Demonic boar range of attack, Emma could escape by herself. 

No, could she? Against that diabolical fiend?  
  
Ray gnawed his lip until he tasted iron. 

Think.

Think. 

Find a weakness. Formulate a strategy. Don't give up.

"Norman," Ray swiveled in hope for a suggestion or two from the other genius. As he did that, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

A howl reverberating in the air.

Norman's expression turned murderous, and while it by itself could vie for the scariest thing on Tohsaka Ray's horror awards, what he witnessed next was none second of the former. A vision was being sent directly into his brain, the view transmitted by Noctua and what Norman was relaying to him via telepathy spell.

Emma had been hurt. Badly so. Ray winced. Diagonally below her left shoulder was missing. Her white mantle was dyed crimson. It's a miracle she'd not collapsed yet. However, the next thing he knew, red membranes were forming in the empty space and her arm had regenerated back fully. 

It's creepy. To say the least.

"What...is that?" In his shock, he muttered aloud–Half because he's awash with relief as well. 

"Avalon..." Norman said, still screaming bloody murder over his pretty mien. "The hallowed scabbard of Excalibur. A Noble Phantasm of King Arthur that bequeaths pseudo immortality to its holder. Its main function, though, is to be used as an absolute portable fortress." 

Ray widened his eyes. "King Arthur's? How can such a treasure be in her possession...? ...Oh. Wait, I see. On the fourth and fifth Holy Grail war respectively, the Saber-card slot was occupied by Heroic Spirit King Arthur. To summon forth such a great legendary figure consecutively is unheard of, unless, was it used as a catalyst?"

"Yeah. Einzbern clan did retrieve it from Cornwall and use it in such a manner in order to win the war, but you're missing the biggest point, Ray. Did you forget the name of Emma's mother?" 

"Arthuria, right? ... Eh don’t tell me ... King Arthur is a woman!?"

"Didn’t you say you’ve read the record of the wars in your library?" Huffed Norman.

"It mentioned no such things." His mother, Tohsaka Rin, must’ve falsified few details–if the Heroic Spirit Arthuria had survived after the war ended–to cover her existence from the Association's eye. For those foxes Heroic Spirit itself was an exotic object, after all. Ray begrudgingly deduced. "Anyway, so you’re telling me that she could hold off for a while?"  
  
"Do you think it’s a good news?" Norman spat, ostensibly peeved.

Flabbergasted, Ray hazard a question. "What do you mean?"

Based on its myth, Avalon would not allow for a drop of Kind Arthur's blood to be spilled so long as he possessed it–to say nothing of its value that arguably exceeded Excalibur for its loss had been attributed to his downfall. So, why there's still a prickly aura, which could freeze the faint of hearts, around the champagne boy?

"She's not Athanasia, you see. The magic sheath indeed grants potent healing, allowing for critical wounds to be rapidly repaired, but it only mitigates the damage one receives; it doesn’t attenuate the excessive pain of her injuries. The longer we dawdle the longer her suffering will be." 

Hearing that, Ray couldn't stay calm either. He clasped the leather purse Emma had entrusted them with his sweaty palm, and spoke earnestly. "Anything... Anything is fine, has Noctua found anything virtually useful?" 

"That..." 

* * *

  


  
Flurried of weapons danced.

A sight–a panorama which transcended time and space. Noble Phantasms from all sorts of different eras, all across myths and legends, manifested and burned themselves out. Beowulf's Nægling, Hrólf Kraki's Skofnung, Mjölnir – The hammer of Thor, Sigurd's Gram, Dáinsleif, Merodach, Perseus' Harpe, Forseti's axe, Gríðarvölr, Gungnir, Vajra, Lance of Longinus, Gáe Buidhe, Gáe Dearg, Durandal —Plenitude of psychedelic sparks burst out like fireworks in the dark open field. While it's a spectacular display in of itself, they’re, in fact, being expended in unrefined manners. 

Emma knew of her lack of finesse full well.

She’s no knight. She’s no king. She's no warrior. She's no hero. She’s no magus. 

If her father could wield these imitations 70% as good as the original owners, then she stood at measly 45%. Emiya Shirou had conferred a total of 1379 of his most sublime creations on her. She'd depleted a third of it months ago in Einzbern castle incident, and half of the leftover in today battle, leaving her with a little short of 459 pieces; amongst her arsenal, there were five trump cards that's off limit for various reasons. 

One of its instance was Avalon【The ever-distant Utopia】

The lost Noble Phantasm of King Arthur. The real one. 

Whilst she wasn't allowed to–she mustn’t–deploy it as an invincible fort, it was what keep her going until now. 

That Demonic boar grew fiercer with its rioting savagery. The world trembled. Tendrils of sizzling steam hissed out in each of its steps creating a smog that encompassed all.

Another barrage of magical missiles flew and split the cumulonimbus-esque brume apart. 

To diminish the vapor, she'd bombarded the screened boar with everything she got. In consequent, her tendons disintegrated. Her arteries busted. Her bones fractured. Her spine rend. Her kidneys ceased. Still, all of them were quickly repaired by the Magic sheath. 

Down to 411.

In a blink of an eye, her body was intact. Be that as it may, she couldn’t be careless. The immortality bestowed on her was limited. A decisive blow to her brain would kill her. She’s walking on a narrow tightrope. 

  
  
Down to 387.

Again, Emma attacked. Again, her rapier bounced uselessly off its impregnable tusk. Her wrist was dislodged as a result. Bearing the pain, she dodged the enraged boar's retaliation, ducking under its belly and leapt to its side. She acrobatically skated downward, slicing its abdominals along her way. 

**"Keep squirming, mongrel!"**

As if to fling a noisy bug, Twrch Trwyth waggled its flabby fat and bounced her dozen meters away. The air was knocked out of her lungs. Yet, in that split moment, she managed to send a torrent of swords raining down at her foe. 

Down to 353.

_Clang._

A huge cyclone of mana unleashed by Twrch Trwyth hurled off the entirety of her onslaught. And she's further flung away because of it, barreling into the trees behind with a nasty crack. Her nose broke. Her jaw was pulverized. Her intestines dangling on the pendulous branches. An anguish whimper threatened to leak out, still, she choked it down.

She looked up at her antagonist with her bleary vision. It hadn’t received any fatal wound so far. 

It’s egregiously resilient. Having an immunity to sorcery in the highest order. A primal Mystery. Whose rapturous voracity hankered for a slurp of her sweet blood. 

Her silver lining was it's a sadistic sociopath. 

Thus, the boar was abstaining itself from delivering the final blow. 

In hindsight, all of her executions so far had looked crude and inefficient, nevertheless, there’s no single waste to her disposal. Everything was based on meticulous calculation.

She'd deliberately paraded her regeneration ability at their preliminary exchange to keep it at bay. 

If it could play with its prey, why wouldn’t it? If there’s more fun in crucifying, harrowing and molesting his lunch, why'd it refrain itself? Like how cats amused themselves toying with mice for an appetizer. Like how humans entertained themselves watching live-prawns pirouetting in flambé. What’s so wrong about it? 

Reading through its barbaric personality, she knew it'd rather brutalize her and prolong their fight until she buckled under just to satisfy its warped perversion. In the meanwhile, by showing her desperation like this–a play pretend of wasting her ammunitions away to shake it off–she'd able to analyze its thought of patterns and movements. Granted. It didn’t change the situation that she's at a disadvantage. Avalon couldn’t restore her spent stamina. In other words, she'd soon suffered through a state of being kept alive whilst in starvation.

Even so.

Despite the bleak outlook, her thought was accelerating. Distant memories that were from a time long ago began to play out within the recesses of her mind. Melodic susurration produced by the swaying of evening reeds. 

A paradise beyond reach. 

An eternally verdurous meadow.

The flower Magician, her quasi-grandfather. The flamboyant tower of penance.

Within, she learned chivalry, swordsmanship and kingship under the tutelage of her mother, Arthuria. Of violence and rigid justice. 

Quite the opposite, in retrospect, of the mendacious lessons of Isabella, her former mother, had drilled into her. Of Machiavellian maneuvers and treachery. 

Both, though, were arts of survival. A genuine love toward their daughter. In all honesty, while she's indeed grateful, those were things she's not a big fan of. 

She’s an advocate of peace and liberalism, frank and loyal at heart. 

Ironically enough, the girl called Emma was a multipotentialites savant, insomuch that it's no exaggeration to say her versatility even eclipsed the genius Norman. Her predilection didn’t translate to her base capacities to master what were originally her anathemas. 

There’s almost zero chance for her to lose in a battle of psychology. 

In the heat of the battle, her intuition heightened itself. It's getting sharper and sharper that it's several steps above her mental inference. She's in a trance. In zone. Becoming extra sensitive to subtle changes and stimulus. The tunes of the forest. The mana touch. Every pulsating heart, and her own elevating pulses. The boisterous faeries. Her disintegrating cells. Her crepitating bones. Acids in her lungs. Bile in her trachea. Droplets of tears lining her cheeks. 

Faster. Faster. Faster.

210.

She cleaved the boar’s ear cleanly in half.

"▄█▂▄▃▂▃▄▄█▅█▓▒░"

More efficiently. More accurately. More skillfully.

184.

It's as if she's been going on a grueling triathlon for twenty four hours straight. She’s sweating buckets. Dizziness. Migraine. Nausea. Feverish. Dehydration. Kidneys failure. Cardiac arrest. 

She's clearly sustaining a bout of rhabdomyolysis, yet her movement didn’t decease.

She bisected Twrch Trwyth's jowl, evading its counterstrike, and acrobatically did an aerial cartwheel to prevent herself from being thrown away.

156.

Time gradually slowed down. As though she's travelling on the light of speed, everything around suspended. The bulk of information overloaded her brain. Albeit she'd expanded her mental capacity using Atlas's memory partition technique–up to nine rooms in total–a number that’s a first in history–her hippocampus was melting like crumbling honeycomb. 

Bzzz.

Bloods were trickling out from her orifices. Nostrils. Eyes. Ears. But why would she care? Avalon would heal her just fine.

Bzzzzz.

Her reasons had been flipped topsy-turvy.

The extreme pain. The excruciating pain. The piercing pain. Now a joy to have. Now a piquant delicacy. An addiction. It's an ecstasy quite unlike the other. 

She welcomed it all. 

129.

Her own lips curled upward. 

Bzzzz.

A laugh filtered through the night. Whose?

Her motions were fluid.

"█▅▂▄▃▂▃▄▄█▅▄▅██▓▒░"

Scarlet juices soaked her tattered dress. Her ivory mantle had been refashioned utterly into a red apparel. Still. Regardless of the slimy mucus raining on her, she soared to connect her next attack. 

97.

Just a little bit more. Just a little bit more. Just one more step. She'd reach the realm of Laplace's demon. The infinite precise position and momentum of every atom in the universe, their past and future values, would fall on her lap. A prediction that woven even the Chaos theory and narrated a cinematic tapestry would be on her grasp. 

56\. 

As if granting her wish, inky blotches appeared in the corner of her peripheries. 

Seeing the opening–black lines that weren’t there before–she rushed in. She couldn’t possibly understand what those creepy zigzagging scribbles are, or whence it came from, however, she knew if not by instinct. They’re a paradigm of death 【Isolation】. Something originated from the Root. Hence–

"█▅█▅▂▄▃▂▃▄▄█▅▄▅██▓▒░"

A Brobdingnagian tusk whirled into the air. 

She did it. Emma realized. Her axe had whistled and scythed through one of the adamantine tusk. She cut off its source of magical power. The core of the Demonic boar which cured its wounds and alleviated any curse inflicted upon it. The altar to its divinity. 

It felt surreal. How curious. She's just tracing through the black dots. 

Oh. Perhaps the reason she's been hearing the buzzing radio-like noise in the backdrop–was it because she's changing her channel? So...

**"▂▃▄▄█░▒▒▓How dare you!? How dare you!? How dare you!? How dare you!?A mere pest like you dare to defy me!? Dddiiiiiieeeeeeee!!!!"**

–So, with her new-found power won't she able to defeat Twrch Trwyth now? With this, there’s a slim chance for her brother to be hit with friendly fire as well. 

The tips of her lips crinkled, forming a perfect crescent beneath the moonlight. Her chest swelled with excitement. Wisps of magical energy gyrated toward her.  
  
She lifted her arms and hefted her glistening blade.

《『Emma, it's ready.』》

A dulcet voice awakened her from her intoxication.   
  
Everything halted. Her Circuits fizzled and deactivated. The mana that had been surging about dispersed. Her inner clockwork switched its gears. 

In unison to her deflating motivation, a vast magic circle sprung to life before her.

* * *

Approximately 1 hour and 30 minutes earlier・°°・°°・。

  
"You found something?" Ray asked after they gained a considerable distance.

Norman nodded. "The geological reading Noctua acquired is showing a big cavity a bit south to where Emma is fighting. It's most likely a caldera. It's 1208 meters deep along its 35 kilometers length."

"So, we can pull the rug under its feet? At the very least, it'd be an opening she needs." Settling his chin onto his hand, Ray entertained the idea. They couldn’t help Emma directly, so they focused everything they had for the supporting roles. "But if those big tremors–courtesy of that giant pig–haven’t collapsed the terrain yet... is there a catch?"

"There’s a thin layer of aether protecting the plane like a sanctuary. If we shift the mantels, it'll be just nigh conceivable."

"We don’t have the means or time to prepare though." Argued Ray. 

"...Well. Have you checked the purse Emma has given us?" 

Urged by Norman, Ray untied its warping knot. 

Inside, there’s a bundle of marigold hair. Seeing that, Ray widened his eyes. 

It's without doubt a godsend for them. For magi, their own body parts made the best catalyst. For female practitioners in particular, long hair that was cultivated over many years became an especially powerful and precious fuel. An extension of her sorcery. With this, they didn’t need to worry about getting caught in the crossfire either. 

She'd probably gifted them this knowing their personality full well. That they wouldn’t turn tail despite her insistence. That they'd rather die together than being apart. That they’d glean through her plan and board it. It's her appeal to fight as one. As three musketeers. 

As such, if she'd saddled them with this heartening responsibility, how could they not fulfil her expectation? Ray balled his fists. "Norman..."

"Yeah." Their course of actions was decided at that moment. 

  
*

Norman and Ray went to their separate ways. Norman with Camelopardalis. And Ray with Noctua. The division was based on their fighting prowess and expertise. A cold judgment without no room for argument. Each with their own sets of danger. 

Norman was assigned to spread Emma's hair-strands on the site and connect the pentagram's key points. 

Whereas Ray was to fine tune every donation spheres so the tectonic plates wouldn’t veer off too much. 

In the meanwhile, the colorful bursts of star-mines were painting the horizon over and over. They thought as long as they avoid those booby traps, they'd be safe. 

Thus, despite their confidence to live through the night they’re not ready with what's coming. Hundreds of camera footages linked themselves into their brains. 

They’re Noctua's wide reconnaissance recordings–What they saw could only be described by one word.

Hell.

It's hell. A film of a carnage.

That very night, the boys had to bear witness of the girl's cruel battle. The girl they've wanted to protect more than anything. The girl they wished to pamper more than anyone. The girl they prayed for to be the happiest person in the world even in the exchange of theirs. Her battered form. Her far too reckless, self-sacrificing, ideology. Her tiny, delicate, almost fragile as glass, body being pummeled and begrimed with blood, dirt and gore. Her screeching laughter reverberated loud and clear to the narrow of their spine. She's fighting resembling nothing so much as a berserker set loose in the wild. There’s no one to stop her. 

Ah. It's as though a chunk of their being were being gouged out. A knife stabbed into their hearts, and someone else poured a wine over it. 

No matter how many times she was hurt, she’d stand up. No matter how much she's lost, she'd move forward. Yet, they’re hapless to help. Again. Again. And again. 

Recollection hit Norman like tidal waves. It's not his recollection, however. This was the treasure given to him by that ever effulgent girl.

  
＊＋＊

  


  
_In another planet._

  
_In another galaxy._

  
_In another universe._

_There’s a little story never quite untold._

_A fateful meeting between a demon and a young girl._

_"You’re such a kind soul, Musica."_

_The girl had said, but the demon didn't quite so easily accept the subjectivity, which the cursed-blood thought as a far-flung departure from herself._

_The cursed-blood demon was robbed of her family, her friends and clan, no one had been spared from the royalties' avarice and its gluttonous vice clout, as it squeezed everyone of them dried to their bone. An annihilation, a genocide of her own special kin._

_Nevertheless, the cursed-blood maiden had miserably survived alone._

_She ran and ran, continuously going into hiding with her bodyguard cum companion, whose ironically a denounced prince. Whilst shamefully elongating her petty life, not even exacting her family's revenge, just wasting away for centuries, she's, indeed, resembling nothing so much as a walking ghoul._

_"I won’t deny the fact you’re our savior has biased my personal evaluation, regardless of, my opinion still stands. ...Why, you asked?" The girl chuckled, as if finding the demon's defiance precious. "You’re noble. Despite all the misfortunes you've been put through, you direct not your bitter resentments toward the unjust world. Instead, you can't help loathing yourself for your own powerlessness to make a difference."_

_That’s not true. What an overestimation. The demon was merely a coward._

_However, on the days of yore, the demon indeed had once harbored an idyllic wish of becoming someone that makes a consequential tide in the vast ocean. Just for once, just for one insignificant moment, she'd wanted to reach somebody else with her own hands. How ignorant. How foolish. Her penance had been accosted upon her by which of the voracious, insatiable appetite of the Queen Regnant, Legravalima. She's just a puny existence._

_"Then, I'll save the demons in your stead."_

_The demon was rightfully surprised. Why? Don’t you abhor 'us' for eating your brethren? Don’t you begrudge 'us', for in our edacity we've built a despicable system? The farms. The cruel hierarchy structure. The cattle children caste._

_"You've taken no part in the Covenant, though, Musica."_

_"I share the blame, for I've turned a blind eye." The demon had had never the intention to save the girl and her family in the first place. She candidly admitted._

_"I see. It's a pity, as in my humble opinion, an individual could only do so much, thus they’re bound to fail in the grand scheme of thing. But I'm not alone, I've my family. Therefore, please let this 'life'–that you proclaimed have been saved by your whims–crystallize your deepest longing, and liberate you from these excruciating shackles."_

_Shackles?_

_Ah. The demon was dumbstruck. She'd not realized it herself. How acute of the girl. For the first time in the centuries her frozen heart was met with warmth, not just any warmth, a blazing sun that melts even the hardest glacier._

_But could she, with no shred of scruples, delegated such heavy a burden onto a small girl yet barely experiencing her first decade? Was the girl has been so compelling, or was her weary spirit already in the brink of collapsing? Either way, she hesitated._

_"Don't worry. This’s the path I’ve chosen." As if reading her turbulent emotions, the girl spoke up. "I'll change the world no matter what, neither demons nor humans need to suffer anymore. It's a promise. So, you don’t need to feel responsible, I'm just selfishly taking the baton off you."_

_Even the girl didn’t receive the demon blessing, she'd continue on. She’d clearly stated that._

_The demon ruminated for the whole night._

_The next morrow morning,_

_"Go to the Seventh Wall."_

_The demon gave the girl her precious charm while bidding her a safe journey._

_Two years after that surreptitious discussion._

_A coup d’état occurred._

_The monarchy was dissolved._

_The farms was absolved._

_The cattle children were freed._

_And the demon had her tiny ripple transformed into a tsunami._

  
＊＋＊

As the memory played a theatrics for his causes, Norman was swept by a feeling of despondency. 

Yes. The girl had had always been looking solely at the future, neither erring nor hesitating. She’d always move forward. None could ever dictate her ways of living. She's as free as a bird in the sky. The future she envisioned. The ideals she realized.  
  
Thus, regardless of it couldn’t be even more far-etched to call it as a disillusionment, Norman knew it's not Emiya Shirou's and Arthuria Pendragon's upbringing which shaped Emma to be a girl who sought to spread happiness onto others. There’s no outside interference. He's the one in denial. At her Origin, Emma was ▅▅▅▅▅▅

* * *

  
《『Emma, it's ready.』》 

"...Norman..?"

The pervasive stench of death frizzled like a mist at the crack of dawn. 

A magic circle ringed the whole landscape, yonder the horizon, and bright luminance swallowed everything in white. The ground quaked. Her flooring, no the entire region crumbled into the oblivion. At once, Emma summoned her only barricade into existence. 

The Noble Phantasm of the fame Knight of the Round, Sir Galahad. A counterfeit of the ultimate protection.

"True Name, unveiling—I shall rise to the Siege Perilous.

The place that cures all wounds and dissolves all hatred, our home, sits here!―

Manifest, Lord Camelot!!!" 

She brandished the hefty round-shield which dwarfed her twice the height.

The impervious White Walls of a lionized Castle unraveled itself. A majestic Kingdom― Briton capital city's impeccable last bastion to its holy sanctuary. Infallible and infrangible. Its imposing ramparts had repelled countless invasions of the Anglo-Saxons and the Jutes. It was now held within her hand.

"H-how!? Why do you posses that shield!?" 

Recognizing the golden insignia embroidered on the glorious flags–which embellished the castle white wall's balustrade–and none. As it should be. None in British Isle could've ever mistaken it for anything else–Twrch Trwyth roared in panic. Of course, after all that very emblem had once signified and brought its immeasurable atrocities to doom. Its greatest nemesis.

She leapt, ricocheting to several scaffoldings emerged from the rubbles in the air. She's saving the last 50 or so ammunitions for this exact moment. With the plethora of weapons Emiya Shirou had reproduced for her, she couldn’t possibly master each of them. Thus, she'd conserved the most she's familiarized with for her final counterattack. 

Twrch Trwyth was free-falling. In that split moment of vulnerability, Emma put her strategy into motion. 

10 seconds. 

In the span of merely 10 seconds, she ought to finish Twrch Trwyth. 

She took out an iridescent, zigzag dagger. It's thin, brittle, and blunt, barely sufficient as an edged-blade. Albeit, contrary to its appearance, it's wholly vicious in essence, an anti-magic Noble Phantasm belonging to the notorious Medea of Colchis which dispelled any kind of thaumaturgy and ensorcelled item―Ruler Breaker.

She hurled it at the Demonic boar's orotund back, cancelling its protection against sorcery and curse. This would've been impossible had she not broken one of its tusks. 

Her Circuits spun. Her engine roared into life. Tufts of dirt forming virulent clouds around her. She kicked off a rubble, spraying mud in all directions and engraving a web-like pattern onto it before pulverizing it completely as she rocketed toward her enemy.

A multitude of weapons manifested and switched out of turn within her grip. She slashed. She pierced. She shot. She lacerated. She hacked. 

Its jugular vein. Its trotters. Its ear. Its skin. Its rib cage. Its tail. Its tusk.

"▓██▃▄▄██▃▄▅▂▄▃▂▃▄▄█▅▄▄▄▅▂▄▅██▓▒░!!!!!!!!!"

She continued one attack to another. Never stopping. Again, to the next one. Again, and again and again. Her consecutive attacks chained beautiful combos. The artistry performed was not unlike of a veteran butcher. 

While her enemy was still stunt, wailing unsightly due to her relentless fusillades, she pulled out her last armament.   
  
A Carmine barbed-spear carved from the remains of Curruid's skull.

Weapon of the Queen from Celtic Mythology's Ulster Cycle―Gatekeeper of the Land of Shadow. The bloodsheds it's imprint into the legend were innumerable, of people, soldiers, and utmost valiant warriors. 

With a thump, she thrust it as a javelin and shouted its True Name.

"Gáe Bolg!"

There’s no need for her to aim. It had a serrated homing ability that reversed the nature of causality―of 'cause and effect'. Once fired, its victim would be already considered 'dead'. From the tip of its shaft a red beam darted in reminiscence of a viper, bending in impossible angles, and struck a fatal blow with one hundred percent accuracy. It'd pierced Twrch Trwyth’s heart and blossomed into thousands of iron thorns which ruined its organs from within. Not even its healing ability would salvage it from the spear's lethal curse.

The mountainous beast crunched into the patched cavity below with a deafening rumble–Literary. As its last growl had burst Emma's eardrums mercilessly. 

A rancorous ember in its timbre.

Twrch Trwyth thus met its end.

The Demonic boar drew its last on the hand of its archenemy's daughter–How truly ironic. He'd run from King Arthur's clutch, but was fated to lose against His Majesty’s offspring.

Their crisis thus had been crushed.

* * *

A thunderous thump.

A cavernous depression.

Overlooking from the butte at the outer sphere of the destruction, two boys replayed the brutal battle footage in slow-motion. This's because their normal eyes would never able to catch those two overwhelming speeds.

Twrch Trwyth had been defeated by dint of their cooperation. 

It's a forgone conclusion. At least, for Ray's part. He relaxed his tense shoulder and heaved a long sigh. With their antagonist gone, they could safely close the 'Portal'. Good riddance, Emma. He praised inwardly with an air of melancholy. 

But, his relief was short-lived.

Another rumble shook the realm. Ray snapped his neck to whence it came. 

"!!!" 

To his stupefaction, a malignant black mud had permeated the sky and dimmed the moonlight glow. It's as though a black sun was pouring out massive contents of cursed dark sludge all around. His entire body froze in a frightful manner. Cold sweat streamed his back. 

It's few kilometers away, but he could feel its invisible clutch encroaching his nape. 

It's bad. It's evil. It's nightmarish. Don't look. Run. Run. Run. His inner voices were screaming for him.

"...Took it long enough." 

The platinum boy beside him said in a plaintive tone. It's barely above a whisper, yet, it's like a gunshot in a silent room. 

Triggered by his lackadaisical comment, Ray forcefully grabbed his companion's collar with bulging-eyes–Well. This's clearly his perfidious brother he's talking about, so naturally, Ray had been taking his words all this time with a grain of salt–Nevertheless, his ballooning cynicism had popped into an inadvertent action at this point. It's his involuntary shock of tonight ceaseless incidents that made him prickly and out of character. 

"Explain what do you mean by that, Norman?! Do you understand what’s that?!"

"Of course, I know. It's Angra Mainyu. The Grail's filth, isn't it?" His answer was perfunctory.

"You bastard!!!" Ray spat. "So you're really the one who tampered with the Grand ritual preparation in Ryuudou cavern, isn’t it!!!?? Saying rubbish things like you’re a pacifist and what not...!? Tch. Regardless of your intention, do you understand what've you done!?" 

"I told no lie." Defended Norman, trying to swat Ray's hand since the boy was suffocating him. While Ray wanted nothing more than to strangle him right there and then for his sassiness, he didn’t want his 'family' to die either so he grumpily let go. "I've not meddled with your quarrel. To be precise, it's Emma, who hijacked your plan and me that sabotaged hers."

"...What?"

"Surely, you've your qualm about Emma conducts this past week, don’t you? Can't you find something strictly odd? For example, with how much she's an expert in controlling her Od–not to mention she'd even subjugated that Demonic boar–her setting off an explosion at Tohsaka mansion's garden just because she misfired a Gandr spell must be some kinds of a huge ruse, no?"

"I thought... you two were in cahoots to examine my reactions whilst I was pretending, is that not the case?"

"I was only conniving her acts. It's two birds with one stone. On the first day, she's using special kinds of Aether instead of mana when evoking Gandr spell to disturb Tohsaka Rin's perception–Ah. yours as well. In the meanwhile, she sent her familiar to temper with Fuyuki leylines in Ryuudou Temple."

"Familiar?" With cursory glances the raven boy noticed her favorite yellow creature was nowhere to be seen. "...That Camelopardalis?" Ray held his suspicion. After all, Camelopardalis was clearly a battle-type familiar, not suited for such intricate a duty.

"Well, you probably don’t know, but Emma has several familiars. Each with their own function and raison d'être." Norman paused, seemingly disconcerted that he's in the dark as well about Emma's objective. "Anyway, from what I've reckoned, she's been accelerating the 'rate' of Mystery in Ryuudou cavern. Kindling its dormancy. That probably what's disarrayed your magic circle."

If that were the case, Emma's previous hypothesis about the source of singularity was a subject of debate. She might as well have been sprinkling lie all over it. "Then, the talk about Wechselbalg as a high-class sprite is nothing but rubbish?"

"Oh no. That’s where everything fell apart. She's speaking the truth. Your deceitful familiar has opened a big portal to its homeland, and combined with the high-concentration of magical energy in Ryuudou, an anomaly of this ridiculous size occurs. It's without doubt a miscalculation."

If what Norman said had a semblance of truth, then it's not a two versus one, this's a three way battle from the very start, Ray surmised. "And, what did you do?"

"I've rewritten the formula, so when your magic circle activates itself, it'd rewind time on one 'particular space'."

"I would have detected it had you done that–" Ray cut himself off as he'd more or less guessed Norman's method. 

"Oh. So you have finally realized it, Ray. You're surprisingly late to the party." Norman chuckled in mockery. "I engraved the additional formula inside my body. After all, you’re using me as a vessel to accommodate and channel all the magical energy of Fuyuki, hence, I took advantage of it and seized the ritual activation code."

"Late you say...?"

"Oh my. That's what concern you, huh. Right. Emma has suspected me from the time those Barghest attacked us on the bridge. Their first target was me. It's because they’re attracted to my Od as the one who technically cast the spell." In other words, those Barghest were summoned beings, therefore, they solicited the homunculus' blood as repayment. "Seeing I've a part on it, Emma thus sought for a chance to leave the two us so she could move by her own self to swiftly close the 'Portal' and foil whatsoever I've orchestrated. That's her motive to drink that colorful lake water without notifying us of its effect." 

"Emma had...? Stop pulling my leg, Norman. Even she’d bested us, that's not her modus operandi. She'd rather come off and say it to our face."

The paler boy gasped.

"...Are you still saying that after all this time?" Norman thus leveled him with his utmost icy glare as if blaming his sangfroid. As though he's rankled by an ignorant toddler and could not stand it anymore. "Ray, do you remember the entire sequences of your first chess round against Emma a week ago?"

Ray didn’t understand why he's touching upon that topic now, but he'd sensed Norman's insistence and solemnity enough to know he's not getting away from answering it. “Well, yeah? It's getting chunky in the middle, but she's always never delivered a smooth and concentrated attack." 

"No, that’s not what I mean. Can you decipher them?" 

"Hm?"

"Try to recite it, won't you." Compelled Norman.

"E4, b5, Nf3, Qh5,........a3. Checkmate. Well?"

"See. Both of your combined moves, a total of 157 steps has made a sentence: 

『I'm really happy to see you, Ray!』

The first segment was a letter made of Morse code. The second half was tetration of the previous itinerary. The third was a hexa-decimalization encryption. Then, they’re continued by binary and Malbolge language, random algorithms, elliptic curve cryptography, et cetera. Emma has ostensibly lost the game, but she's got her intended results."

"Don’t bullshit me. Even the latest quantum computers need several days to analyze and calculate something that has more than a trillion branches!"

"Right～♪ Yet. She read through it all, predicting every of your possible moves. She directed the whole board, scenarios and gambits behind the scene, laying the groundworks as if sporadically fitting jigsaw puzzle pieces into the layout and constraining your paths at every turn. Even the Othello matches you had after that... do you know she's impishly drawn a cat autostereogram by framing multiple facets of horizontal and linear patterns respectively in each reversals?"

Ray was taken aback. Of course, putting aside the matter of her hidden genius, this description was quite a departure from how he'd describe the girl named Emma. 

Ostensibly enjoying his reactions, Norman continued. "That girl has a rather twisted personality. No, 'mischievous' would be the correct term. After all, as if there’d be any ill-will in her playfulness. Quite the contrary, indeed, for with all her ineffable purity, she's just spicing up the game." 

On the corner of his peripheries, Ray could see more of the Grail's content splashing and spilling forth from the cracked sky. It'd flooded a fifth of the coniferous wood. This’s certainly not the ripe time to debate about their philosophy of Emma, and Norman should’ve been aware of the fact as well. Ray sighed. "Norman, let's go out of here first." 

"No can do." 

Snip. Snip.

It's a crisp and pristine sound.

Something whipped past Ray's cheek. He felt a prickly sensation a second later. He registered he'd be screwed if he moved even for a single step. The whole area must be strewn with Norman's threads and traps. 

"Please refrain from acting rashly, won’t you?" The homunculus’ glacial inflections belied his cordial smile. "Or I'll be forced to chop some of your limbs, Ray."

"Quit with your jokes, Norman!" Ray unintentionally raised his voice an octave higher. "We'd die if we don’t skedaddle! That thing is bad news!"   
  
"Certainly. I'd not care though." 

Ray didn’t know what to make of so blatant a lie.

"Norman! Are you letting Emma die!?" The platinum boy had been portraying her somehow in an unflattering light, but Ray knew Norman would never let real harm befall her.

"Ray. You misconstrued everything. Did you for once wonder why that thing can exist here?" Norman pointed to the execrable slush. 

"You said rewind time on one 'particular space', right? A complex-type of time manipulation is theoretically classified as Magic. But you're no Magic user. So, I bet you just read the past particles when the Grail was still active and 'subtract'《replicating》 that exact moment to the present via the immense magical energy you got. Metaphorically speaking, you're lock-picking, no, you’re nudging the keyhole of the Heaven's Feel's gate for its content to ooze out. In time, that slight aperture will close itself due to the World's correction." It'll wipe the entire Kyushu province before that though, was left unsaid.

"Bingo. Then, why do you think I'd beckon such calamity?" 

Norman was fishing him. He's buying time. It's clear as day. 

Ray could only blame himself, he should’ve worked out that something was amiss when Camelopardalis wasn’t around. Norman must’ve gotten rid of it somehow or another in a way that wouldn’t alarm Emma. But with the emergence of that malison, Emma would begin to search for them. So, they’re acting as a bait? What for?  
  
"You always have a screw loose, aren’t you?" Ray shot an experimental Gandr at his longstanding rival. As expected, it's nullified in a blink of an eye. 

A sinister smile crept across Norman's mien. "Give it up, Ray. My Circuits【resistance】 are entirely on a different level from modern magi. Instead of wasting your breath, why don't you entertain me with one or two small talk?"

"Fine, I'm actually kind of interested: why that rotten brain of yours could deem that 'King of Daemons'–who bore the six billion curses of the world–as anything close to a blessing. Few mavericks would, if at all."   
  
"Is the idea such a bitter pill to shallow, Ray? 'Evil' doesn’t necessarily means 'bad'. Angra Mainyu is technically a Heroic Spirit. As proven, it's been summoned forth as a Servant in the third war."

"And what had altered the Holy Grail's alignment ever since." Gibed Ray. The Holocaust it'd caused left an everlasting scar on Fuyuki City. Tainting the soil and leylines forever more. 

"Are you saying that despite knowing the tragic story behind 'Angra Mainyu'?"

"...Tragic? Angra Mainyu is ancient Persian' evil god《daevas》. Zoroastrianism's hypostasis of 'destructive spirit'. Its avatar. The antithesis of Ahura Mazda 【The God of goodness】. Their doctrine only emphasized on the duality of these inverse abstractions. There's no novelty in it beside the nine thousand years of their strife and rivalry." As such, there’s no hero scribed in their memoir. No soap opera. No fabled fantasy. No celebrated allegory. It's a religion with such a direct precept.

"...A devil incarnate. That's how his peers referred him."

"Huh?"

Despite Ray's confusion, Norman didn't waver on continuing his story. "Once upon a time, on a nameless island, in isolated world. There’s but an ordinary human. A powerless individual without any special characteristics beside being an exemplar village boy. That is, until one faithful day, he was randomly chosen as the "source of all evil in the world" by his fellow tribe, kith and kin.

Without trial, without any rights to defend himself, he's suddenly subjected to illogical violence and sacrificed in the ensuing rituals. The reason was absurd as it's sophistic. What do you think, it's?"

"...Hatred?" Ray hazarded a guess. "It's the utmost irrational aspect of humanity after all." 

Norman smiled. "Well, dubbing it as 'bitterness' might've been the correct answer. You see, those villagers, doesn’t necessarily hold any resentment toward the innocent boy. They’re pious followers of Zoroastrianism who believed in humble and righteous way of living. However, droughts, famines, poverty, pandemics, and many more... they kept suffering from various, interminable disasters despite their rectitude. Eventually, their building stress exploded to a point where they've to resort to design a scapegoat to blame all their miseries onto."

The case wasn't unlike Ratri predecessor, Ray noted. Weary of the pointless bloodshed, he chose to sacrifice the cattle children. 

At the end of the day, the mental breakdown was a natural result of their endless anguish. In essence, human was an irrefutably frail being, who required hope to keep on living. 

"...So, without being allowed the sweet comfort of dying, they continuously tortured him, forcing every sin imaginable upon him until he went insane for millennia to come. His soul thus carried the definition of 'evil'【Angra Mainyu】. Believe it or not. This nonsensical ceremony has mitigated those people's agony. Regardless of it being unintentional on his part, this fact has qualified him to become a Heroic Spirit."

"Wait. Don't tell me..."

"Yeah. The Holy Chalice, which was worshipped as an omnipotent wish-granting machine, has answered the prayer of this pitiful soul–No, the unanimous prayers of those villagers who wanted to stay clean and pushed all the dirty things onto him. That tainted mire was the materialization of its hatred toward the world."

"Humph. I still cannot see why you’re so fixated on asking for its help." 

"...Asking help?" Pausing, Norman thus giggled. The euphemism had fallen short on him. 

Oh well. Ray thought. It's a sarcasm more than not. The platinum boy clearly had neither scruples nor a shortage of methods at his disposal in furthering his agenda.

"Right. I've always had a proclivity to play with fire. You should’ve known that. Ah. Saying it in your word would be, you’re miserably responsible to wipe our ass?" 

"It's not fucking funny. You two are such a pain in the ass." His brows twitched in exasperation. Every time Norman or Emma vocalized their caprice, none had ever escaped the ensuing shipwreck. "...And? Is 'it' worth it to create such a grand scene like this? Fess up, Norman!"

"Ray, you see, Angra Mainyu doesn’t begrudge the humanity. Its hatred is a part of the system in which he's sustaining his identity as evil deity. It's carrying out everyone’s desire. A pure, unadulterated malignance. At heart, it validates any good or evil that humans may perform. Don’t you think that aspect of his similar to Emma's?"  
  
"Hah. Quit making me laugh. She’s funny in the head, and she may pardons any kinds of transgressions, but she'd whip those wrongdoers into the right path." Right. Ray believed Emma would beat them a road of redemption, not facilitating their errors.

"Yeah, so doesn’t it make them the opposite sides of the same coin? Those warped mentalities are foreign to normal humans." A melancholy look traversed through Norman's mien as he said this. "If Emma continues on, eventually, she’ll become something entirely inhuman. I'm afraid of that very prospect, Ray." His face crumpled, almost as if he's containing his tears. The platinum boy was shivering, and all too raw to be beholden. 

As such, Ray was tentative to say anything, because he understood well his brother's fear. 

After a brief interval, Norman spoke again in strong timbre. "...So, this's my ultimatum."

"Angra Mainyu is a maleficent fetus, which when hatched, will herald the destruction of mankind. It's an indisputable fact. Hereby, Emma has two options:

1\. First, She can isolate Angra Mainyu via her Magic, rejecting its existence altogether. But in doing so, she'd rob and deny the humanity of their 'evil'. This certainly would create a utopia on earth, notwithstanding, how twisted it'd look like.  
  
2\. Secondly, she can accept Angra Mainyu's inherent nature as 'evil' and fight the unborn baby regardless of her principle of not abandoning any children. As long as, she has Avalon, she'd not die. However, she'd risk herself being tainted. Well, If she'd realize the filthiness of humanity, and even for a little bit, being put off by it, thus forgoing her ideals in the process–that of itself would be a blessing for me. 

Either way, I won't mind. I'll accept any decisions she'd come to." 

What a very cruel proposition. Both would grant the girl of her wish of a world peace, yet neither would approach her ethics and morality.

Norman was shedding all pretense of cordiality. This's their unique relationship. When opinion clashed, they vied until the other budged, or buckled in defeat. No reservation.

"...Is there a need for detaining me then?" Infuriated, Ray cursed under his breath.

"This's my compromise. A VIP seat I've prepared for you. Of course, if you don’t want to be here, you may brute-force me and go to her side." Norman had noticed Ray was preparing his counterattack to get free. The Einzbern's homunculus could be careless, nonetheless, as far as he sees it, this whole farce was his overture and Ray had the very right to reject it. "However, don’t you want to witness Emma's choice? Isn't dying together here better than being separated?"

Ah. Damn it. Tohsaka Ray finally realized:

It’s a matter of priority.

For Norman von Einzbern:

His memories was the past.

And Emma is his present.

Ray was insisting on going back, but for Norman, his only place was by Emma's side. The two boys were having different views from the beginning. So of course, he'd to meet him halfway before anything could start. 

Hence, Ray raised his hands. "Put off your strings, Norman. I won’t resist. Let’s see everything to the end. Together this time."

* * *

"Norman, where are you!? Aren’t you with Camelopardalis?"

『《 Don’t worry. We've evacuated far away. I assigned Camelopardalis to fetch you when the boar has been defeated. ...Do you perhaps need any help on destroying the Portal?》』

Emma heaved a sigh. "No. I can handle it on my own. Don’t go near here. The Demonic boar carcass released a potent poisonous gas." She easily lied as she regarded the feculent sky. 

Angra Mainyu. 【All the World's Evils】

A sinless uterus that'd usher the destruction of mankind.

For her to encounter her parent's nemesis twice in a single night was arguably a kismetic stroke of luck. 

"Oh dear," Emma complained. This really put her between Scylla and Charybdis. "To accept or reject it, huh? This's something I can't vanquish, moreover decide on my own–Oh, so that's how it's. I see..."

The tiny girl realized everything and adopted a painful smile. 

"I'm sorry, Norman..." Saying so, a sharp glint entered her Peridot orbs. She cut her link to Camelopardalis so it wouldn’t get involved.

"I can’t accept your kindness."

She wielded a Holy Lance to her hands. 

The last vestiges from the Age of Gods. It's not a relic Projected by Emiya Shirou, but a genuine article that'd been passed down on by a secular King Arthur’s cult in a certain village. 

Lustrous and tinged with a golden radiance, it emitted wisp-like essences of particles which formed a tower of light. The translucent radiant was stretching on towards the heaven.

Releasing half of its Restraints, she beckoned its true power from the depth of its dormancy.   
  
"Rhongomyiad!"

O' shining pillar, extol the brilliance of the planet!

One of the anchors that had sewn the layers of the world since the medieval era. It roots stemming from the properties of the world itself. A symbol of stability between reality and illusion. 

This was, without a single of doubt, the most suited Noble Phantasm to fasten《seal》 the aberrant Portal forever. With this, whether the phantasmagoria, or things belonging to the fantasy, or this very anomaly itself, would all return to its former state.

As everything was engulfed in golden light, the girl saw something moving within the black ichor. Two scintillating crowns and a scarlet frame with seven open mouths who equipped them. 

Thus, the inky lumpy slush inundated the whole terrain with the same magnitude of a dam collapse. 

It swallowed the lone girl who opened both her arms as if to embrace it. 

* * *

"Pfft-" Tohsaka Ray broke into laughter. "She chose both!! She probably thinks it's not right to judge it before defining things on her own! Your jig is up, Norman. Serves you right!" 

"Oh. Shut it, Ray." Huffed Norman. "How reckless can she be challenging it head on...?"

"What's your game now? Staying here's equal to termination." Smirking widely after laughing his head off, Ray needled the ostensibly miffed homunculus. "I bet, you don’t tell her our location as well."

"Yeah, if she's known we're close by, she'd prioritize our safety first than her own ego. That'd spoil her decision-making." 

"You're awfully calm." As though he wouldn’t mind meeting his demise here. "Don't tell me–"  
  
Ray was immediately interrupted when a pitch-black comber avalanched right across his left. 

However.

"What are you doing standing idly there, you rascals!!!!!" 

A voice he's familiar with stopped the acidic liquid's advance. Or to be precise, its owner did. A stream of light blitzed and tore the sludge's protuberance apart. 

"Hurry, come here!" Tohsaka Rin skidded across the rolling rocks while holding a jewel dagger. It's shooting beams that obliterated the worst calamity's appendage like canon fodder.  
  
"Miss Tohsaka?!"

"Moms!?"

The two boys were boggled by her sudden appearance. 

"Argh! Damn it! It hurts! Has the feedback always been this bad!?" She's huffing as she rived their encirclement. Her usual impeccable deportment was nowhere to be seen. "Wait a minute!! There’s only you two!? Where's Emma!?"

"She'll be fine. She has Avalon." Norman replied.

"Avalon!? That's convenient. Anyway, let's get out of here! I'll-" Without warning, a fissure had lined and split the butte they’re on. The black mud had deluged their whole surrounding. Endless curses spewed forth and killed everything they touched.

Ray and Norman were flew off tumbling onto the crevice's sediment over and over again. 

Landing in a painful heap, Ray groaned as he tried to stand up, only to find that his feet were completely immobile. 

The corrupted mire was confining him. 

His inarticulate scream was drowned in his throat by his own fear. He's nauseated. His head felt fuzzy and hot, and the curses overwhelming thoughts rushed into his mind.

**Murder. Rape. Robbery. Defamation. Bullying. Lie. Perjury. Deception. Fratricide. Homicide. Lust. Wrath. Envy. Sloth. Greed. Gluttony. Pride. Genocide. Suicide. Massacre. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.**

He writhed within the insanity. They’re draining his energy, soul and spirit.

"Catch it!" Seeing that, Rin hastily threw her weapon to him and was consumed by the incoming Grail's tentacles from another direction instead.

Receiving it, Ray swung the Mystic Codes helter-skelter. He destroyed his encasement and scrambled to rescue Rin, but he's too late. Her figure had already disappeared within the lumpy sea.   
  
"Hop on!" Hollered Norman. He's riding his owl metallic cords. 

"!!!? Didn't you say it can't be used without a 'saddle'?!–Ouch!?" His protest was cut short by the stinging sensation on his palms. They’re burned red.

"Make sure you coat your vital organs with your Od, or else this kid will slice you up into pieces." Norman warned as they gained altitude, rising into the surface. "She must be still nearby."

Ray opened a path using the iridescent dagger. His muscles frayed with each use. It's originally a ritual tool designed by the Arch-magus Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg– the Second Magic wielder. Embodying an alien technology from a far future, beyond the reach of modern man, it refracted back the mirror image of the moon to produce a virtually infinite Ether Cannon. However, what Tohsaka family had was an imperfect reproduction of it, hence, the backlash.

After searching for fifteen or so minutes. Ray spot a silhouette. "Norman!" Pointed him.

"Roger!"

Ray swept the never-ending oozes. He saw her mother unconscious form, and stark vermillion on her clothing. "Is she injured?! Heal her, Norman!" He quickly scooped her by force and entrusted her to the platinum boy.

"On it! ...!!!? Ray..."

"...What?" Detecting Norman's sudden taciturnity, Ray looked behind.

"I'm healing her, it's working, but, but... she has no heartbeat!!? Tch. Her body is getting cold as well!!" 

When he heard him, he felt everything froze.

There were no sounds, cacophony of the whispery winds, the rustling of animals scurrying away, or even the roar of destructions engulfing the realm. All that remained was an oppressive sort of quiet that unnerved him, like a vague paranoia. 

Was he in a perpetual state of denial? No, certainly not. 

Yet, as if to mock him further, there's a similar vision floating on the back of his mind–Of Isabella–even though, he had no recollection of it–haunting him, sending him into cycles of intropunitive tendency he'd yet conquered for himself. 

When did he go wrong?   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on my interpretation reading the manga, this's the dynamic of the full-score group: Ray is attached to the past. Norman is fixated on the present. Emma venerates the brilliant future.
> 
> I think Emma is that type of person who spouts nonsensical ideals and lies, yet never clings or be tied by the frivolous definitions they denote. Thus, she appears sublimely angelic while, in truth, being the cruelest out of the three main protagonists.


	6. Epilogue

The faint chirping of birds drifting inside woke Tohsaka Rin up.

Starlight streamed in multitude of dots, dancing playfully on her room's tiles. She raised herself up, and thus was assaulted by a sharp migraine.

"Ouch...! Eh..? Why am I....?"

Rubbing her aching temple, she tried to remember what'd transpired since she looked for her students. 

"As I recalled... uh, I arrived at Ryuudou Temple, at which point I figured my barrier had already in its dying state. But on further inspection, I discovered a stronger Reality Marble has been placed upon it and then I was searching for a way to get inside when... I witnessed Angra Mainyu's placenta suddenly manifested and destroyed it. With the opening, I entered the anomaly and found the children in the midst.... and eh?" Her memories were jumbled. It seemed as if she'd forgotten something important.

"...Ms. Tohsaka? You’re awake?" 

A bell-like voice broke her concentration. 

Rin regarded the marigold-haired girl that had just entered the room without her noticing. The girl was carrying a water basin with a clean towel draped over it. "Huh...Emma? Are you okay!?" 

"Hm, yeah... I'm glad color has returned to your face." A serene smile graced her mien. "Oh! Wait, I'll call everyone! Ms. Tohsaka please rest for a bit more." She rushed outside before Rin could voice her objection. 

"Eh!? I'm fine already....! ....Oh well..." Huffed the Tohsaka head, seeing her protégé fleeing figure―actually, her adorable pitter-pattering gait she couldn’t help but gaze with fondness.

Not a minute later she heard some commotions from downstairs, a flutter of helter-skelter steps, and her son emerged from the door with widened eyes. 

"Mother!"

"Ray! I'm glad you’re fine!" She got up and embraced her only son. 

Or that how it should’ve been...

However, Tohsaka Rin's arms passed through Ray's body like specter’s limbs. Intangible. She fell down on the carpeted floor. Hard.

"What...huh?" Bewildered, Tohsaka Rin rubbed her own body, and she could feel all of the sensations vividly. So why? She's tongue-tied. That's it. Until a nauseating recollection swept her. The Holy Grail's filth, its unhatched embryo. The six billions curses invaded her mind and soul. 

"Of course, I died. Am I...a ghost?"

"That's not quite right, Tohsaka. You’re revived." 

Rin raised her head. "...Shirou? What are you talking about..." The man was beside the entrance and a beautiful blonde was accompanying him. She might’ve been surprised of their presences if not for the fact her thoughts were jumbled with questions. 

"Emma, would you explain everything now?" Shirou regarded his daughter sternly.

"Of course, dad. Then, Ms. Tohsaka let me tell you a story of a distant star." 

*

Inundated with zillions of information, the three children's adventures and confessions, Rin pinched the crook of her nose. These rascals' antics were something beyond a mere scolding could ever hope to fix. But, there’s another thing which piqued her interest more within their supposing 'grand chronicles', merely...  
  
"...So you’re telling me Emma used her 【Magic】 on me? Not sorcery, but Magic? And most of all, it's not the known Five Magic?" Tohsaka Rin scrutinized the three children. She wasn’t without suspicions. 

After all Magic and Sorcery/Magecraft were fundamentally different. Magic was a 'True Miracle' that couldn’t be replicated in a certain era, whether by humans or the planet, even if supposing having an infinite amount of time and resources. Whereas for Sorcery, only the process itself could be considered as miraculous. For instance, creating a fire out of nothing was a miracle, however, the result was something exceedingly ordinary. Even it had, metaphorically speaking, the magnitude of a supernova, that was still scientifically achievable. 

Thus, Magi ratified those in the realm of True Mystery, which were connected to the Root, as 【Magic】. 

With the proliferation and advancement of technologies, there’re only Five Magic of the Modern Era remaining acknowledged by Mage's Associations.

It is said that the beginning First changed everything, the following Second acknowledged many, the resulting Third showed the future, the linking Fourth concealed itself, and the final Fifth had already lost its meaning. The hypothetical Sixth Magic's existence was something heretofore unproven. 

"That's right." Emma answered with a clear timbre like tinkles of summer chimes. 

"...And you acquired 'it' in your past life? The three of you are reincarnations from different universe?" Rin asked in a tentative manner, as if touching a volatile bomb. Well, she's not wrong in acting this way. In fact, the achievement of reaching the Akashic Record was all Magi greatest dream, their raison d'être. So, Emma's feat was hard to swallow, putting it mildly.

The marigold girl nodded. "I've forged a Promise to liberate all the cattle children. 【Segregation and Isolation】 that's my wish." 

"Farms, demons, Neverland... with all the Mystery still abundant and abound, that world might be an analogous to the Age of Gods of ours. The Ymir's path is consequently open for every challenger, huh. That explains why your Craft works under alien principles or something else entirely..." Rin rested her chin on her hand, registering the bulks of information. "Anyways, in a nutshell, the Magic you're bestowed with is similar to Avalon's blessing, am I correct?"

"There’s a fatal difference, nevertheless. One can take refuge in the realm of 《Golden Apple》 and come back to reality. But, mine doesn’t have such a convenient feature. Once 'things' are sequestered, they’re not reconcilable anymore."

This's the reason Emma didn’t use Magic to win against The divine Demonic boar, Twrch Trwyth. Or vanquishing Angra Mainyu. "That night, I refrain myself on lessening of triggering a time paradox."

Rin tilted her neck, at lost.

"Ms. Tohsaka, imagine snipping a photographic film, what would happen with the sequences that're cut off? If there're branching timelines or parallel worlds it won't matter. But my Magic didn’t work that way. Trimming one aspect of a history will crumble the entirety of Human Order." Twrch Trwyth was a chronicled figure in the fifth century, extracting its existence altogether was as though pulling out the entire bottom deck of Jenga blocks game. Likewise quarantining Angra Mainyu was equal to stripping the whole mankind from their evils. 

"Eh, wait so 【segregation】 means erasing 'a certain picture' from the world's canvas..?! Then―! What about Ray?!" Cold sweats trickled Rin's spine. If her conjecture was correct, the one Emma chose to exempt from the abiding force of the Universe was 'Tohsaka Rin', but in scratching 【Tohsaka Rin】's existence out the existing archive, the fact 【Tohsaka Ray had been born out of her womb】 would be voided as well. 

"It's alright, Ms. Tohsaka." Responded Emma calmly. “Ray is an exception, he's a part of the deal 《cattle children》. That's why even I put you in a conceptual space where multiple universes converges, his very being won’t erode in the World's passage. And first of all, what I took from you wasn't your existence, but ‘your perception and sensitivity to Mystery', thus Angra Mainyu's curses that are made from impalpable, esoterica substance could be extracted from your tainted soul. However, in return, you become impervious to all things consisting Mystery." 

"That... I see, that's why I can touch the furniture but not Ray." Said Rin as she rubbed the chair she's sitting on. "Does this mean I can no longer interact with humans that have physic powers or Mage?" 

"Yes. It's the only way to save you. I'm sorry. If I were to divest your 【death】 Ms. Tohsaka, you'd become immortal and I can’t let you experience such a sad destiny." 

Rin smiled. "No, you’re my life saver, Emma. There’s nothing you need to apologize for."

Shaking her head, Emma closed her eyes with a pained expression. "No. Frankly speaking, I've done something crueler. With this you’re no Mage anymore, Ms. Tohsaka."

For Tohsaka Rin, who proud herself in the Craft she'd been embroiled since birth, this Miracle might’ve been a more excruciating punishment than a salvation. She's denied from her own dream and all the relationship she'd built with meticulous efforts. It's a heavy crux; none could blame her to abandon this responsibility foisted upon her without her agreement. 

"Ms. Tohsaka, I'll let you decide whether to accept living with this condition, forever distanced from the Mystery you love, or..." Emma trailed off.

"Or accept my death, right?" Intoned Rin.

"Yes, you should discuss this together with Ray. We'll take our leave." With her cue, Norman, Shirou and Arthuria left the room, giving them their privacy. 

* * *

It's near afternoon. Emma was waiting in the hallway, shuffling her legs or tip-toing with the balls of her heels as she passed the time idly. Her father had invited Norman to prepare dinner together, and whilst he's displeased with this idea, the savvy boy seemed to understand its significance. 

The mahogany door opened with a creak; slivers of warm light surged from the crevices and dyed the corridor golden. 

Ray emerged from Tohsaka head's room. While he wore his usual stoic demeanor, Emma could see the puffs below his eyelids and she molded a smile in response.

"Had a good talk?" Started her.

"Yeah... How much do you know?" Ray wasn’t implying she's been eavesdropping their conversation, quite the opposite, he's inquiring her intelligence before anything began. 

"All of this―our escape plan―was out of your kindness, right?" She spoke in singsong voice. "Not giving any parting words, concocting a scheme that won't devaluate her principles as a mage or staining her reputation even if things go south... Truly, what a softie you're. Mother and son." A mellifluous chortle soon followed her soliloquy.

Ray blinked. In other words, she knew:

He wanted to leave as 'a son'. 

Despite his aversion, he wanted to respect Tohsaka Rin's vocation and slip away without tarnishing her honor. 

Protecting their final and feeble link by creating a wholesome closure: First, an anomaly that wouldn't breach Mage association's iron-clad rule of 'no-witness'. Secondly, fabricating a phony perpetrator as an object of hatred for her son's disappearance. Thirdly, taking Tohsaka's Magic Crest to end their bloodline once for all. 

But, of course, all of the after-mentioned facts didn't diminish his abhorrence of Tohsaka Rin's way of live. 

Whether it's her sharp intuition at play, or whatsoever abstract relay of mental inner working she had, Emma had seen through him from the very start.

"What a Charlatan." Ray spat. "So, you've predicted Norman might drag Angra Mainyu into the fray and thus have been warning me to rescind my agenda beforehand."

"Oh, I know you’re a stubborn one, I'll never convince you otherwise. But seeing is believing, right?" Emma beamed, and Ray was very tempted to wipe that angelic guise of hers right now and there. He felt wrongly exposed. "In the fifth war, Tohsaka Rin had to kill her sister who's corrupted by the Grail's filth. It's not the fact she killed her own family in a cold-blooded manner that rubbed you in the wrong way, but it's her dogma of pursuing Magus's maxim which've compelled her action hitherto, right? However, now that you've seen Angra Mainyu's terror, you realized her perseverance of adopting such article of faith must've been because her wisdom and guilty conscience calling. "  
  
This damn girl. He cursed internally.

She’d been turning the entire premises as scaffolding for her scheme. Moreover, she probably wouldn’t come clean with everything she's orchestrated thus far or whether she'd achieved her intended result. Quite the contrary of Norman, an exceptional tactician, whose every plot and maneuver were calculated to the letter. This girl wouldn’t hesitate to levitate any measures in all kinds of reversal or quandary.

Truly. The idiom 'all's grist that comes to her mill' fit her to a t. 

"Argh, fine! You win. Now go talk to her, I'm done with it." Ray pointed and briskly strode pass her. 

Emma noted how he's hiding his embarrassment. It's plain as day.

"Roger!" She giggled bemusedly, but didn’t pry further, much to Ray's relief and mortification―because, she’s actually being considerate and that's mean Norman and she would tease him to no end in the later dates. 

* * *

"Good day, Ms. Tohsaka. I'm glad color has returned to your countenance." Emma greeted.

Tohsaka Rin reckoned the portentous aura of the girl sitting in front of her. A chill crept into her skin and down to the narrow of her bone. The pressure was overwhelming. It's as though she's facing an alien deity. Well, she couldn’t be more right. This child she'd taken as her protégé was something closer to a 'great cluster of Mystery', a Magician, who'd transcended the Heaven. 

So, she finally showed her true face, Rin observed.

"Oh my. You're sporting a wholly different attitude, though. Should I thank 'you' in another time?" Gibed Rin. However, it sounded like a bravado more than not. 

"Don't be so on guard, Ms. Tohsaka. I'm glad you’ve ostensibly resolved yourself." Emma molded a simper. "What I did was because I care for Ray. As such, your gratitude is a waste on me." 

Put in other words, she'd not done this for Tohsaka Rin. 

"Of course, you're a part of the equation, Ms. Tohsaka. You’re Ray's happiness." Added Emma just as the cynical thought crossed the Tohsaka mistress' mind. 

Rin was baffled beyond sense: Emma's turn of phrase. Her timing. Her behavior. Everything was so perfect that even she knew she’s being played at, she couldn’t get angry at all. Feeling the heat rushed into her cheeks, she coughed and straightened her posture. "W-well, it'd be cowardly of me to not put it directly, so let me declare this: hereby, Tohsaka Rin will renounce her career as a Magus, will vacate her position as the Tohsaka's head, and will disavow her oath as your mentor. I ask of you to assent to this pronouncement. Of course, I'm obliged to state the exact utterance to Norman, and your guardians: Emiya Shirou and Arthuria Pendragon as well. Furthermore, the matter regarding the transfer of my obligations to another party will be canvassed at an official conclave." 

"I give my consent." With this, the binding of their contract as Teacher and students was annulled. "Congratulation, Ms. Tohsaka."

"Is that a sarcasm?" Rin knew it's a sincere remark, nonetheless, there’s no denying she had her own fair shares of complaints.

"There’s no such thing, may you find greater joys and blessings in the new path you’ve chosen, Ms. Tohsaka!" Emma enveloped her hands in gentle encouragement. 

As she walked down the memory lanes, Tohsaka Rin had devoted her entire life striving to be the perfect Mage, as her father, Tohsaka Tokiomi, had been her idol. She’d not yield even it's a harsh and unforgiving road, even she'd to be alone for the rest of her life, even she'd to dispose of her own sister; she'd never found it as a misfortune. Instead, she assumed those sacrifices as her medals of honor. 

'Parting with Mystery' 

The previous her would be scandalized by such a notion. Albeit, now, she’s being lenient in retrospect of her son's future. She'd be lying if she didn’t have any regret. Still, it's not in her character to be depressed or wishy-washy throughout a predicament. Her pride was still beside her. As a Tohsaka, she'd just elegantly bulldoze any obstacles as ever. 

It's okay. It'll be alright. The warmth on her palm was telling her so.

"...Thank you." Rin said. 

Emma smiled kindly in response. "Then. How 'bout Ray? Are you going to disown him as your successor?"

"He's the head of Tohsaka family pro tem. There’s going to be a lot of procedures and arrangements before he can finally retire." At the very least, Rin was saying she hadn’t the intention to stop him anymore. "Well, setting these stiffly stuffs aside, I've something to crosscheck personally with you."

"I figure." Emma nodded, signaling her to continue.

"Emma, are you perhaps Gaia's appendix?" Rin had suspected Emma as some kinds of Elemental. The first day she'd demonstrated her Magecraft, the surrounding mana was ebullient, as if invigorated by the gentle caress of its predecessor. It's a peculiar episode. Not only that, Rin remembered the barrier placed over hers in Ryuudou cavern―having a trace of Emma's thaumaturgy―was virtually impermeable; it's not flawless per se, but every Phantasmal Beings on that place were bolstering it unconditionally. 

"If you traced back into my birth, that'd be the case, nevertheless, I'm neither Alaya's nor Gaia's agent. I was born inside Avalon and raised by my mother’s royal instructor, Merlin, until I was five." 

"Avalon...Why..?" 

"Because I'm a miracle that’s conceived through the reunion of a Heroic Spirit and a human. By right, It’s an abortive endeavor. A ghost can’t possibly beget a child, now can she? One must wait in perpetuity. One must pursue an unreachable star for an eternity. It makes you ponder: is it worth the sacrifices? However, their diligent prayer has indeed been answered. That’s me." Gestured Emma. "Although, not everything is a picturesque as a dream. The reason I can be their offspring is due to the fact I was an 'alien'―a soul originated from a distant Gaia's mirrored plane―and linked with the Root. Moreover, supposedly, a phantasmagoric existence like me ought to be treated as 'an aberrance' in the real world and erased by the Counterforce. Hence, without 'a catalyst' I can't even step outside Elysium 《Island of Apples》"

"So, Avalon―the artifact― is your anchor?"

"Yeah, as long as the Noble Phantasm is within me, the Counterforce won't lay a hand on me. But this's merely a temporary solution." Her lovely face fell into a grimace. "As such, I beseech you to take care of Ray henceforth, Ms. Tohsaka."

"W-whoa wait! Are you leaving Emma? Didn’t you guys just get reunited with each other? Aren't Ray one of your family?" Rin thought her lonely son had at last found his refuge, but was that not the case for Emma and Norman? She even had prepared herself to receive news of her hatchling willing to leave his nest. Not the opposite. 

"I've procured my 'goal' in Fuyuki City after all. Of course, it seemed my dad and mom wish to settle on his homeland, so it’s not like I'll immediately depart on my own. Plus, Ray isn’t really my family." The girl emphasized her last sentence with poignant tone.

"What do you mean? Isn't he the reincarnation of your past?"

"Sadly, Ray isn’t the Ray I know. It's more correct to say that Tohsaka Ray just has the memories of the cattle children Ray."

"Isn't that the same as you? the time you spent apart, accumulating different experiences and feelings, defines each of you as a new brand of person, no?" Rin couldn’t see the problem with that.

"That's true, but what I meant to say was we―me, Norman and Ray―are simply strangers that came from three similar linear universes." As Emma elucidated, Rin ultimately caught on what the girl had been wanting to convey. "Having a relationship with different persons with identical names and appearances of your beloved ones, can you feel how tragic it's? How abject it's?"

Emma's question cut deep. If there’s a clone of her son, possessing the same personality and memories as him, could Rin love the clone in equal measure? Or by loving the clone, would she betray her own son in return? 

Rin crumpled her skirt. "B-but isn’t there a chance they’re the same people?" 

Emma shook her head. "I'm sure they’re not. Because that’s the price I’ve to pay in exchange of a Miracle. Even my memories doesn’t belong to me. It's a dossier of 【Emma】 logged in the Akashic Record, in which Merlin, with his clairvoyance and illusion-art, has evinced for me."

Rin was rendered speechless. If that were truly the case, how the girl in front of her could smile oh so innocently?

"Oh, don’t be mistaken. Norman and Ray are important for me, no matter how dismal it sounds, I'd love to protect their happiness. That’s why, I'd prefer it if you can keep this a secret from Ray."

"...Only Ray?"

Emma shrugged sheepishly. "Norman knows apparently." She said it as though her conjecture had been proven and grew reticent in the next moment. 

Whilst it's a cause of concern, Rin caught something direr than that. 

"What exactly are you Emma? What's your motive? You're going on about Avalon as a 'temporary' solution against the Counterforce, even though, Avalon is 【an everlasting and absolute fortress】? Unless... regardless of your nature, your 'objective' is something worth labeled as a 'threat'?" Tohsaka Rin, the mage personification, asked.

Emma eyed her, two chrysoberyl orbs reflected Tohsaka Rin's contour, scrutinizing and appraising their opponent. She gulped under the tension, but didn’t avert her gaze. 

Acknowledging the raven woman's fervent curiosity, Emma toyed with the hem of her sleeve in rumination and relented. "As the apostle, no... as the embodiment of alien's civilization, I won’t deny that my background, plus my actions, could be classified as a colossal menace to this star's population. However, that’s beside the point. Ms. Tohsaka, are you aware humanity incarceration happened just a few years ago?"

"Incarceration...?"

"Have you ever wondered the reason behind the absence of contact between you and dad, your close friend, in this past decade?" 

Rin was flustered. Emma poke a sore point. She'd never pried further along their shallow chatters across the years, thinking Shirou had his extenuating circumstances. "W-well, I figured it must’ve been his confidential mission as a Counter Guardian?" 

"Your guess is correct. Long story short, on 2015, a certain secular agency with its credo of preserving human race had been recruiting personnel, and my parents being the perfect fit for their requirements, were drafted up into their project. Its name is Chaldea. With their advanced technology, they managed to detect seven singularity points which were the causes of mankind's extinction a century in the future."

"...Huh? A century?" It's nigh impossible, Rin mused. "Was it perhaps a cosmic precognition spell they’re developing?"

"Not quite, it's a planetary projection with the Pseudo-Spiritrons conversion... Uh. I can go at length with its theory, but it’d be a lullaby that lasts for two days, so let's skip it, shall we?" Offered Emma. Rin had no objection whatsoever. 

"Back on track, the source of those deviations was none other than Goetia【Beast I―"

"Hold on! Beast!? As in that Beast!!?" Why the scale getting astronomical all of a sudden!? Rin wanted to scream. 

Beast《 Stigmata of Humanity》― were the seven Armageddon positioned to enact the annihilation of homo-sapiens and consume civilization. They're the apoptosis system of anthropoid primates. One could say they’re the last trial humanity had to prevail over in order to persist.

"Ms. Tohsaka, you shouldn’t be surprised by this. It's a history." Emma admonished. "Anyway, in the grand battle against Goetia, my parents were faced with utter defeat. Goetia activated its Noble Phantasm 《 Ars Almadel Salomonis 》which eliminated any Heroic Spirits in its sphere. They lost all of their comrades in an instant. Although, thanks to Avalon, my parents were saved by a narrow margin. As they're transported into Elysian Isle, they met the notorious Court Wizard. Merlin, thus, gave them a counsel: "If the might of brawls cannot touch this foe, how about entertaining the novelty of brains?" "

"That makes sense, but Shirou and Arthuria..." Rin chirped. 

"Yes, they’re the type who's hot in the head if the subject concern their ideal. As such, by dint of Merlin's specialty of creating heroes under his tutelage, another magnum opus was born to assuage Goetia." 

“Eh...?" Rin felt sick. She somehow could fathom where the tiny girl was going toward with this story. How could Shirou and Saber do such cruel things to their own daughter? Were they that desperate to save humanity? Were 'us' that hapless? Those questions whirled on her mind.

Emma blinked. "Ms. Tohsaka you had no need to feel responsible. My parents had thought hard on this matter, and actually refused such inhumane experiment, but almost like an ironic turn of events, my soul, with the right properties and backdrop that Merlin specified, drifted into this Universe, moreover, it's on the brink of being extinguished by Alaya. They’d no option."

"I see." Rin could now understand her best friends' dilemma and their choice. "So... have you succeeded placating Goetia【 Beast I】then?" 

"Yes, it became my familiar with certain conditions." Shared Emma.

"Then..." The bubbles of hope frizzled across Rin's abdomen. 

"Not yet. We can't let our guard down yet. Let say... there's Chaos, Alien's god, Sefar, Beasts, et cetera; threats of humanity are far and between in multitudes of shape and number. Not scarce on the slightest. Our allies, though, are fallible. Are you familiar with the term 『 Lostbelt』, Ms. Tohsaka?"

"Just a passing knowledge of it. Multiple universes are converged and intertied within the 'Root'. If one were to put it in a simile, the structure does resemble a celestial-size Yggdrasil. Then 『Lostbelt 』is like a wilted tree branch: a universe, that's insufficient as a catalyst of growth or stuck in stalemate, and fated to be pruned. Am I right?"

"Yes. This universe is a prime candidate to be a 『Lostbelt』." Emma divulged as a matter of factly. "Ms. Tohsaka, you've been asking about my aim, haven’t you? Frankly speaking, it's sovereign《world domination》." 

"...You want to rule over us?" Rin was stumped until the cogs of her brain whirred again a second later. "No, knowing your disposition, is it to create an absolute and eternal peace?"

"Of course not, I value the stability of minds. There’s no happiness without sadness. No rapture in the absence of pain. The 'perfect balance', that’s my ambition." 

Rin could sympathize with her sentiment. However...

"As you’ve inferred, Ms. Tohsaka, a quixotic dream will remain a delusion with naïve undertakings. One needs immense resources and manpower, plus the audacity to extirpate any oppositions to realize it."

"Ugh..." Rin reeled. This girl had been reading her again and again like an open book. Is Emma perhaps...?

Seeing her reaction, Emma chuckled. "For your information, I'm not a telepath. This skill is termed as 'cold reading. '✨" 

"〜!?" This cheeky brat! "Oh, well," Placating her own irritation, Rin heaved. "So, you’re saying you'll be busy with this dangerous plan of yours and you want Ray to stay out of it, right? A pity, otherwise, I could tell you: "Involve Ray in funny business and I'll kill you , Emiya Emma," acting like a good mother once in a blue moon." Joked her; it's spiced with blatant acerbity, nonetheless.

"A pity indeed, I'd like to respond: "Be my guest."" Entertaining her sarcasm, Emma bantered back humorously. She gave her a cursory glance, as if flicking through a book. "Well, Ms. Tohsaka, will you now agree to my request?"

Tohsaka Rin was a stranger to her maternal instinct. She’d been a teacher and anything but; she couldn’t change her 'course' on a dime. As such, she didn’t know what's best for her son. Right now, even she wanted to, she couldn’t hold her son anymore. How pathetic. She rebuked herself.

"L-let me think about it..."

* * *

"Norman?" When Emma came out from Rin's room, she found Norman lounging on the sofa in the adjacent alcove of its vestibule. 

His face brightened ever not subtly. Setting his book aside, he beckoned her to sit with him.

"Were you waiting for me?" Emma favored him with a wry smile. She could more or less guess his incentive to be here instead of helping Shirou like he's asked to. She imagined he foisted off his duty to Ray, whose culinary skills and hobby a better suited to the post, with his cunning machination. 

“How's Ms. Tohsaka?" Norman's sapphire eyes scanned her; despite his cordial expression, Emma knew they’re gauging each other wiles. 

Unbeknownst to the adults in this house, they'd sooner stumble themselves upon this kind of high-end strategic battle while wearing genial masks, on a daily basis, no less.

Still, no matter how competitive it might sound, this kind of exchange relaxed her. Being with Norman gave her some sorts of assurance unlike another. She rested her head on his shoulder and hummed cryptically. 

"How about you? Did you talk with dad?"

Norman gave her a silent treatment for that. Emma never prodded him for this either. It's a sign both of them didn’t want to broach those subjects any further. It’s a reached concession. 

Norman wrapped his arm around her, his hand clasped her fingers, interlacing them tightly. "Emma, mother wants you to accompany her buying the groceries downtown. We’re out of ingredients." 

Emma noticed the irony of his paradoxical actions, in informing her of Arthuria's message yet not letting go of her hand. Thus, she squeezed back their entwined hands and she adorned herself with the most assuring smile out there. "Mhm, 'kay. I'll be off for a sec then. Norman, do you want to come?" 

Norman averted his gaze. "...Even though, you know she wants to spend quality time with you alone?" He's pouting.

Emma blinked. "Sure, she'll happy either way. You’re her son."

"I'll decline."

"...?" It seemed there’s an episode she missed. It's a rare occasion for Norman to shy away from Arthuria. He technically respected her. Her husband, though, he'd avoided him like the plague. "I see. Hm. I’ll be back before dinner. Do you want anything?" She stood up.

"No, thank you. Be careful." He tentatively released his hold. What he offered her in return was a lonely smile, so transparent, so frugal Emma embraced him in a moment of blank. 

"Don’t worry. I'm not going anywhere far." She whispered to his ear and kissed his forehead. 

* * *

  
Seeing Emma left to fetch her mother, Norman was reminded of how Arthuria had approached him this noon. 

*+* ｡・:＋°･:*+..:+*.

_"Norman, I've heard everything from Shirou," The pulchritudinous blonde huffed, exasperated. "I can’t believe it. He's dumping all the heavy stuff on you behind my back."_

_Norman blinked. It's a novel sight for the ever impassive Arthuria to be this incandescent._

_So, she'd found out about their deal. He mused. "There's hardly a need for you to worry about it, mother."_

_"Of course, I do, young boy." Incredulous, She snapped at him. However, rather than indignation he sensed deep sorrow in her tone._

_He's genuinely touched. "I'm sorry to have caused you much grievances, mother."_

_"N-no, don’t apologize." Arthuria was flustered as her son was acting meek. Some ways or another, he could even hear her muttering about his resemblance to a drenched lion cub she'd once kept as a pet._

_Realizing she’s making a fool of herself, Arthuria thus, cleared her throat and donned her royal image. "The fault lay on me to not able to discern the prevalent strain sooner. Therefore, I won’t comment on how you took it upon yourself. Or how you'd even willing to shoulder others' burden. Those traits are most commendable. Albeit, you’re not off the charge either. You’re a mature and clever child. Even if you’ve your own set of values and belief, you should’ve known no one would ever blame you for voicing your discontent. Heed and listen, my young boy, I'm your mother. I may not be your most reliable consulter, but I'll protect you regardless."_

_"...."_

*+* ｡・:＋°･:*+..:+*.

It's a stern and chivalric admonition. Norman had a hard time answering her sincerity. He thought it’d have been easier if everything was divided cleanly between white and black, but most things in the world stood on grey intersection. 

* * *

Arthuria and her daughter walked through the bustling shopping district. The street was splashed with tangerine hues. Yonder the horizon, the sunset cast its last ember upon thousands of mauve cotton clouds. 

It's a nostalgic sight. It's been years since she came to this area. Her lips bore a semblance of a smile as she witnessed her daughter capered around, twirling and humming a melody. The girl was enjoying herself, so sprightly on her steps it'd stricken Arthuria with a reminiscence of a certain frolicsome lady. Her silvery strands would also flutter in the wind as she pranced from one stall to another with brimming curiosity. 

"Emma, do you want to buy anything else?" 

The marigold girl spun on her heels, grinning. "Let’s buy some snacks for Norman and Ray! Can we?" Her eyes twinkled as she looked at the plethora of traditional confectionery displayed on the shelf. 

"Will you miss your dinner?"

"Nope, it's for afternoon-tea tomorrow! You'll be joining us and partake some of it, right mom?" The girl smartly delivered her sally and Arthuria had no counter for that. She herself was admittedly tempted with their sparkly decorations.  
  
"Khh. Go on." Her youngest had always been a crafty one―not saying about her oldest being anything but―Why, she remembered how Shirou had once assigned a home tutor on five-years old Emma in his fear of letting her fall short of her peers' literacy standard. However, contrary to his expectation, the girl marvelously received two master’s degrees in world prestigious university majors over the span of nigh one year. Shirou had been inundated with scouters' offers ever since. Subsequently, Emma had to put a good word on the ‘press’ and thereupon those people dispersed like scurrying mice. 

The King of Knights had little to no knowledge of modern education, but she understood it's such a big deal. Her girl was gifted. While Arthuria wasn’t blessed with stellar intelligence in equal measure, she's once a monarch. A wise ruler on the throne. She had a keen intuition for chicanery occurring behind closed doors. As such, she'd growing suspicion that Emma might’ve seen through everything. She wanted to confirm it from the person herself.

But, how one should breach this kind of subject to her baby girl? 

"Emma..." 

The girl tilted her neck. "Hm?"

“Emma, are you..."

"Yes, I knew it." Emma uncharacteristically interjected her. Or was it her consideration for her mother who’s hesitating? "The deal between Norman and dad... The details are lost on me, though. But I can guess to a degree. Knowing them, dad must’ve requested something from Norman, whose took it to the extreme. The source of their dissension must be me. Norman always exaggerates things involving 【Emma】." 

"Then, why didn’t you stop them?"

"I can’t. The result will be the same one way or another. Me, not clumsily equating myself into their sum, is the most prudent choice." 

It seemed it had been done with the best of intentions. Albeit Arthuria couldn’t just accept that reasoning.

"Then, is it okay to pull the strings of the parties involved in this incident?" Arthuria wasn’t ignorant enough of her role as the 'puppeteer' behind the scene. The artful girl had designed the script, plot and all, to suit her agenda.

'All is well that ends well.'

The case couldn’t be brushed off with those kinds of optimistic words.

True. She had patched up Tohsaka dysfunctional family, but her method was far too crude. Too careless. Arthuria was sure this's atypical of hers. Her brilliant stratagems had countless time helped Arthuria and Shirou in the battlefields, and in each and every of them, the girl had strived for the best conclusion.

"I'm sorry." Emma's fair face turned sullen in a beat. "It might sound like an excuse, but truth to be told, this's one of three worst outcomes among the many scenarios I've predicted. Even if I've prepared myself for any contingencies, the World wouldn’t just abide to my will. Even I've restricted the movement of the rolling dice, they’re always be outside variables thwarting my plan. At the end of the day, I’m such a villain, who deceived others for my own selfish desire while thinking everything and everybody as puzzle pieces to a great picture." 

Emma clammed up― or possibly, she felt labeling herself as guilty in itself was a salvation she didn’t deserved― as she received her wrapped package from the shop-attendant and paid the bill. 

"I digress." Before she knew it, Arthuria had spoken out of turn. To be honest, she couldn’t fathom her daughter's intention. She's dull to interpersonal relationship and subtlety. Nonetheless, if she didn’t put it that way, she felt she'd fail as a parent. "You’re different from Merlin, who views humanity as a whole as merely an intriguing artwork to be beholden. For you, it's never a performance or a play. It’s because you really treasure each and every foible of 'living beings' as precious, you'd willed yourself to be entangled with 'logic' and 'subterfuge'."

"...That’s right. I've had always found ‘logic’ as detestable thing. The science of reasoning may summarize the fundamental equilibriums in the universe, or they may alleviate our flimsy empirical evidence. They're ambiguous and restrictive, ambitious yet relative. We postulate and put a determination on things, then live with the vague equivocation. Nevertheless, it's ironic, isn't it? The world has always revolved around the subjectivity of its observer. Statistic, also critical and rational decisions look appetizing at first, but hold no much clout over the judgements of mankind in reality. Yes, perhaps humans are hopeless in that way." Emma stopped as if in abject self-deprecation. "On the flip side, in this 'evil', illogical nature of them, that I've to admit I'm utterly in love with, has spoken so much of my hideousness not quite unlike the others. It's never naivety as much as it's pure diabolism."

Arthuria didn’t understand those verbose words, but she had an inkling this's Emma way of barricading herself. That’s why. That’s why... "Even so, they think of you as a kind person." Arthuria argued.

Emma shook her head. "Mom, someone who pushes their priority aside for the majority's welfare is beneficent and self-sacrificing, yet they’re a coward and arrogant all the same. An individual who puts an emphasis on their important ones is honorable and prudent, nonetheless unimposing and pessimistic in essence. A person who treasures oneself before others, for all intent and purpose, is a model human, fallible and egoistical; that’s precious. But what of us? We who outwardly altruistic, notwithstanding, never for once understand the sorrow of our loved ones? Who wish for everyone’s happiness while they're onto us with enmity? We accept our trespassers. We accept their inadequacy. However, that 'virtue' isn’t equal to 'kindness.'"

Ah. She could share this sentiment. Arthuria Pendragon herself was the perfect king. To shield the Britons people from the bleak future, her fifteen years old self brandished a sword and cut off her 'emotion'. She'd abandoned her humanity. Even right now, she'd not changed in the slightest bit. Countries rose and fell into ruin, yet her ideal would remain beautiful. She'd wrought her country apart because of that 'righteousness'. 

She bit her lip. 

Arthuria was reminded of the harrowing episode that happened two years ago. 

Her small girl had smiled surrounded by the pungent smell of blood in that abandoned ruin. 

Her body had been tattered beyond recognize, and despite all of that an angelic smile had graced her mien as she embraced men Arthuria reckoned as the enemy’s soldiers. When Shirou and Arthuria had tried to secure her, she'd raised her arms and barred Shirou from pummeling those miscreants. 

Emma had protected her assailants because thanks to her 'persuasion', they'd allegedly redeemed themselves. Because they’d been rehabilitated, there's no need for further violence. 

《"They'll be good people henceforth. So let’s forget everything, shall we?"》

The girl had held her hands close onto her chest as she'd pleaded so. 

In the ironic, dramatic way, the starlight had poured into the dreary place and haloed her figure in golden luminescence. Witnessing such scene, everyone else there thus extolled her as a saint.

But. 

But not Shirou and Arthuria. For them, this’s a greater tragedy. For them, it's a mirror image of their ugliness.

Their girl had been captured and tortured. She'd even been treated as an outlet for lust. Yet, Emma said to cast their hatred away. 

If the situation were to be reversed, and it's Shirou himself, or Arthuria herself, would they utter the same thing? 

The answer was obvious. All this time they had time and time again forgiven many resentments directed onto them. At that moment, Arthuria finally understood Lancelot's, Knight of the Lake, wrath to her act of 'mercy' over his adultery with her Queen. 

A sin should be punished. 

One ought to get angry when wronged. 

Nevertheless, such a simple common sense had eluded her. 

Something was broken within her. 

And something was broken within her husband as well. 

Shirou had wailed unbidden. His blood-curdling cry had screeched her inner soul, it's still echoing within her. He'd stabbed his feet, again and again in madness, to prevent himself from going berserk and hurting Emma. In that confusion, Arthuria had to knock him unconscious. 

The scar of this incident was the source of her husband's instability which led to the dispute between father and son festering until now. Of course, Norman was in the dark about the whole incident, but the boy was sharp enough to conjecture things from Shirou's conducts. That Emma had been hurt on Emiya Shirou's watch. And that he couldn’t accomplish his obligation as a father to avenge her. 

Arthuria was at an impasse. She’s not without sharing the fault. If it’s a legislative or jurisdictive trouble she could just as easily call her judgment, but this's nowhere near to her métier. 

Discerning her tumultuous mind, Emma, her ever perceptive daughter, formed a smile and took her hand. This consideration somehow intensified Arthuria's pain. "If Norman and Ray gave other the sweet comfort of despair, then I gave them cruel dreamlike hope. This’s the harsh truth. So, there’s no need for mom to defend me.

"I'm evil. Plain and simple. But. Don’t worry. Soon it'll be high time to close the curtain of the Neverland. Let’s go home for now." 

Saying those cryptic words, the tips of Emma's mouth curled upward. She spun on her heels and started humming again while Arthuria couldn’t formulate any comeback to her statement. 

Thus, the pair walked down toward the direction of the pomegranate firmament with a poignant tone lingering in the air. 

｡・:＋°Book 1°＋: ・｡

°°・。・:*Fin 。・°°・・。・:*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like repeating, spiraling words, and causes. Emma has been insisting she's inadequate to 'mend' things, but her very goal from the start has been to mend the relationship of Ray and Rin, plus 'fettling' the World’s rough edges. She’s such a load of crap. (ㆁᴗㆁ✿) And that's why we love her!!!
> 
> Book 2, or the second installment, will be the prequel that happened one year before this story, telling the meeting between Emma and Norman.


End file.
